The Boy Next Door
by arianapeterson19
Summary: Rule 12-Just because a person is flighty doesn't mean their wings work. The St. North's move in and find their new neighbor boy to be nice but...odd with a past he's unwilling to reveal. They are willing to let it be until they can't ignore it any more. Rule 93- You can force someone to jump, run, and cry, but you cannot force them to trust. Rated T because I'm paranoid
1. The Boy Next Door

White, the color of freshly fallen snow, rich, crisp, and full of life, so white it almost looked fake, the only proof that it was real was at the roots, which never faded or altered, always staying consistently blizzardly white. His eyes were like the sea water off the coast of Greece if it ever froze, pure blue surrounded by a snowy field of soft skin, his nose delicate, bottom lip fuller than the top. He looked frail, as if a strong wind would break him and carry off the pieces.

The day they moved in next door, he was reading on a hammock in his backyard. A strip of lush green grass acted as a fence between the properties, leaving a clear view of the yards for each other to see. As the movers worked at unloading various vans full of furniture and boxes, a boy walked out and inspected the yard, curiously exploring like a little child. He didn't see him-few people did. His hide out was in the large oak tree near the property line, hidden amongst the leaves in a small tree house with a large wooden porch where his hammock hung, suspended between two forked branches. The rope ladder was pulled up and coiled on the platform, rendering him out of reach from the ground below. It always struck him as funny how people seldom looked up.

"Angel!" called a woman from the backdoor, wearing an orange dress.

"I'm out here!" responded the boy.

"Come inside, please, and help your father set up the living room."

The boy meandered back to the house, shaking his long, dark hair out of his eyes. His long strides took him through the door and out of sight, leaving him to ponder the new boy's handsome, bad boy look that contrasted his laid back manner.

"Boy!" came the contrasting yell of his father from the kitchen window. "Get inside now!"

He sighed, placed his book back into the waterproof box inside the tree house walls, threw the ladder over the edge, and clambered down. The wind whipped his shaggy hair, swinging it about like a flag. As soon as his bare feet hit the ground, he was running for the door as if he was being chased.

"Yes?" he asked politely, hovering near the island in the center of the marble clad kitchen.

"Don't speak to me!" shouted his father, advancing on him. "Where is my dinner?"

He stood still, inwardly sighing.

"Answer me!" he demanded, slamming his against the island.

"It's on the table," he gasped, pain shooting up his hip.

"Next time answer me the first time I say something!"

He threw him back and marched towards his dinner as he landed with a rough thud. Picking himself off the floor, he shook his head, shut the cherry wood cabinet doors his father had left open, and went back out to read his book. Outside, the movers still lugged things up the cut stone path. He paused to watch, but they ignored him.

"Hello!" said a six and a half foot, blonde hair toned boy, walking up to him. "I'm Nickolas St. North. We just moved in next door. Who are you?"

"I'm Jack," he responded, placing an appropriate smile on his face.

"It's nice to meet you, Jack," said Nick, shaking his hand.

"Do you need some help?" offered Jack over a crash that came from his house.

"Sure."

They walked to Nick's new house, a large, old fashioned red brick building, elegantly framed with horticulture, dodging movers as they went. Inside was already becoming a home, pots filling the shelves as the woman in orange with soft blonde hair arranged her kitchen the way she desired.

"Hey, mom!" greeted Nick. "This is Jack. He wanted to know if he could help."

"Hello, Jack," smiled Nick's mother. "My name is Melody Toothania St. North, but please call me Melody. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," said Jack, smiling shyly at the beautiful woman who looked uncannily like her son.

"Nicky, darling, why don't you introduce Jack to your brother and you can set up the rooms upstairs?"

Nick kissed his mothers pale cheek and led Jack around the house, showing him each room in progress. Upstairs, they found the raven haired, naturally tan boy Jack had seen in the yard earlier.

"Hey, Nick," said the boy, smiling from his seat on the ground next to a box of records. "Who's the boy?"

"This is Jack," introduced Nick. "He lives next door."

"Jack," said the boy, swishing the name around his mouth. "What is that short for?"

"Jackson," said Jack promptly.

"I approve. I hate when people shorten Jackson to Sonny. It's such an awkward word, too many flowing sounds."

"So did my mom. That's why she insisted it be Jack."

"Well, I'm Aster Bunnymund St. North, but people just call me Aster."

"Want help unpacking?" asked Jack, unsure of what to say to these boys he just met.

In answer, Aster pushed a box at him. The three spent a pleasant evening unpacking and putting away various belongings. Aster and Nick did most of the talking, telling stories from their previous home, reliving memories as objects were unearthed from packing foam like an archeological dig. The work went quickly that way and soon, the upstairs living room and both of the boys bedrooms were complete.

"So, Jack," said Aster, sitting back as he finished the last box. "How long have you lived here?"

"We moved in eight years, seven months, and 24 days ago," responded Jack.

"How are you so exact?" asked Nick, staring at the white haired youth as if he had just spoken another language.

"I just remember stuff like that."

"Are you boys hungry?" asked a man in a booming voice, causing Jack to jump.

"Yes!" exclaimed Nick and Aster, jumping up and pulling Jack to his feet.

"Who are you?" asked the man, not unkindly, who looked like an older version of Nick, his hair blonde, tall and broad, and he spoke with a strange accent Jack couldn't quite place.

Jack didn't answer, just leaned back against the wall, his eyes wide and face unreadable.

"This is Jack," supplied Nick, his hands moving expressively. "He lives next door."

"It's very good to meet you, Jack," smiled the man, which softened his round face. "I'm Sandy St. North."

"Hello," said Jack, his voice soft.

"Dad," persisted Aster. "You were talking about food."

"Right!" said Sandy. "Well, your mom has some sandwiches made downstairs, so why don't we have our first meal together in our new house?"

"Yes!" chorused the boys.

"Of course, you'll join us, won't you, Jack?" offered Sandy.

"Yes, sir," said Jack, his voice soft.

"Excellent!"

The four of them trooped down the stairs like a parade of dinosaurs, creating much noise with their stamping feet that echoed off the still bare walls of the stairwell. They joined Melody on the ground around a coffee table where she had already laid out the sandwiches.

"I'm sorry we don't have the table set up yet," apologized Melody.

"It's alright," assured Jack. "Thank you so much for dinner."

"Never a problem, dear," said Melody, using yet another pet name, giving Jack the impression that she was a very young version of a grandmother. "Perhaps when we get all settled we can have your parents over as well."

"I don't think so. My dad works a lot."

"Oh, well, then just your mother and you, then!"

"My mother died, actually," said Jack, staring at the table.

"Oh dear!" gushed Melody, her hand flying to her heart, tears pouring out of her eyes as if someone had turned on a facet behind them. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know!"

"It's okay," assured Jack, feeling awkward. "It was almost nine years ago. She was sick."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Jack," said Sandy seriously. "Melody, why don't you get one of the bottles of juice from the refrigerator?"

Melody nodded and rushed away from the table, swiping at her eyes as she tried to get her emotions under control.

"So, Nick, Aster, how old are you?" asked Jack, changing the subject.

"We're both 17," said Nick.

"But I'm a week older!" interrupted Aster smugly.

"What about you?" asked Nick, shoving his brother playfully.

"I'll be 17 in 3 weeks," replied Jack.

"What do you do to celebrate your birthday?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you have a party or go out to eat of something special?"

"No," said Jack blankly. "I haven't celebrated in years."

"Why ever not?" demanded Melody, sitting back down and setting a large bottle of juice in the center of the table.

"I just haven't, I guess," shrugged Jack, failing to see the problem. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten," answered Sandy, consulting his watch.

"I'd better be going," said Jack, trying to hide his sudden panic. "What should I do with the plate?"

"I'll take it, dear," said Melody, grasping the empty plate.

"Thank you for a lovely dinner," said Jack, rushing to the back door. "It was nice meeting you!"

He ran across the lawn to his house like a shadow, slipping through the back door without a sound. The sink was filled with dirty dishes from his father's dinner. Flinching when he turned on the warm water, he wished the glass didn't clang so much when it moved.

"Boy!" screamed his father at the sound of the water running. "Where have you been?"

"I was just out," said Jack.

"Well, get in here now!"

Jack shut off the water and slowly approached the den where his father was, drinking a beer.

"You were out late," said his father. "You know the rules."

He gestured to the ground near the fireplace. Without a word, Jack rolled his jeans up above his knobby knees, revealing still healing scabs, and knelt down on the grits on the floor. He closed his eyes and began to relive his afternoon in his head to take the mind off the pain. He placed his hands on the wall in front of him so his arms were extended and his head hung under them, protected. A belt smacked against his forearms, raising fresh bruises and welts. He tried to focus on that dinner with the St. North's instead of the harsh leather beating into his skin. Eventually, his dad threw him back.

"Get out of my sight!" he hissed.

Jack ran back outside and hurried up the ladder to the only place his father couldn't reach him.

***Okay, it is a human AU, a chapter story, way out of my normal comfort zone for writing so I'm not even positive how much I want to post, and I will explain about Sandy later in the story...**

**So, um, yeah, never been this nervous about posting a story before. **

**Hope you don't hate it. Always- Ari**


	2. Sharing

The next morning, Jack sat in the yard, his bruised arms hidden by a blue hoodie, knees covered in dark denim. He hoped to see Nick and Aster again, which was the only reason he stayed on the ground. His father had driven off to work earlier that morning, leaving the house free for Jack to shower and finish cleaning, which he did in record time. Being in that house always set him on edge.

"Hey, Jack," greeted Nick as he took the trash out. "I was hoping you'd be out here. Mom was wondering if you wanted to join us for breakfast."

"But you gave me dinner last night," said Jack, confused.

"My mom loves feeding people," laughed Nick.

"Okay."

"Hey, is that a tree house?" asked Nick, spotting the dangling ladder, more excited than a 17 year old should have been.

"Yes."

"Awesome! I've always wanted a tree house! Did you and your dad build it?"

"No. Part of it was here when we moved in. I built the rest myself."

"That's so cool!" exclaimed Nick, giving him an impressed look. "Can I see it?"

"What about breakfast?"

"It can wait. Please Jack?"

The puppy dog eyes he gave him made his resolve waiver.

"Fine," sighed Jack. "Follow me."

He led the way up the ladder. Once on the platform, Nick looked around, impressed by his workmanship.

"Jeez, Jack," he laughed as he spotted the pile of blankets. "What do you do, live up here?"

"Wouldn't you if you had a tree house this cool?" he joked back. "Nick, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," said Nick, smiling. "But go ahead, ask another."

"Your mother, is she always so emotional?"

"Jack, you have to understand something about my family," said Nick, turning serious as he ran his hand through his blonde locks. "We moved because two years ago, our sister, Grace, died from cancer. She was about two years older than me. After Grace died, my mom went into a serious depression for about a year. Dad managed to pull her out of it, but we decided a move would be best, someplace away from Grace's memory that seemed to haunt each room."

"That's so sad."

"I love my sister, don't get me wrong, but we all needed this. We needed the physical separation from her to move on with our lives. My parents adopted Grace when she was 8 years old. She was already sick, had been her whole life, and it's so difficult for sick kids to get adopted, but my parents just fell in love with her. I never understood how hard that must have been. They adopted Aster when he was an infant and his parents died in a car accident. They were good friends with my mom and dad and left him in their care. He knew his parents loved him, but Grace was abandoned. I can't even imagine. I'm sorry, we barely know each other and I'm already giving you my sob story."

"It's this place," said Jack, nodding at the tree house. "It's a safe place. People are always more open when they can't be touched."

"It is peaceful up here," agreed Nick. "What happened to your arm?"

Jack had reached up to brush his bangs out of his eyes and the sleeve of his large sweater had fallen down to reveal his mottled forearm.

"Oh," said Jack, letting his arm fall. "Nothing."

Nick raised his eyebrows but didn't pursue the question.

"So, breakfast?" said Jack, smiling.

When they walked into the St. North's house, Melody greeted them warmly, helping Sandy put the freshly cooked omelets on plates.

"I'm so glad you could have breakfast with us!" gushed Melody, clearly recovered from her fit of tears the night before. "We forgot to tell you last night, but you're welcome here any time, of course."

"Thank you," said Jack, touched. "You're really too kind. You barely know me, after all."

"You offered to help us get settled and you didn't know us," countered Aster, delivering the plates to the bar. "Fair is fair."

Jack smiled and enjoyed his second meal with his new neighbors. Then, Sandy set off for his job and Jack helped Melody by drying the dishes she washed and putting them away in their new homes.

"Where do you go to school?" asked Melody, handing Jack a pan.

"Burgess High School of Advance Studies."

"Oh, that's where the boys will be going! How wonderful that they'll know someone. I worry about them transferring school so late in the semester."

"What are they going for?" asked Jack, drying his hands.

Burgess High School of Advance Studies was one of two high schools in Burgess. The students that attended all specialized in some area of either academics, art, dance, or music. Melody was so chipper, it was difficult for Jack to ever picture this woman as depressed. Everything seemed to excite her and her joy was catching, so much so that Jack began to relax in her presence.

"Nick will do sculpture, he's so talented and always creating these wonderful inventions and models," said Melody, every bit the proud mother. "And Aster does painting. He so enjoys the colors and has loved to paint on unusual surfaces ever since he was a little boy. Both boys are just so gifted. And what about you, dear? What do you do?"

"I draw."

"Marvelous! You'll have to show me your work sometime!"

"Oh mom," sighed Aster, reentering the room. "Let the poor boy breathe, he just met us."

"I don't mind," said Jack, who was inwardly glowing at all the attention Melody gave him, soaking it in like a light deprived plant in the sun. "Do you want me to show you the school today?"

"What a great idea!" sang Melody. "You all have fun and here's some money for lunch."

"Would you like to come with us?" invited Jack shyly as Aster took the offered money.

"Oh, no, I'm going to finish up putting the house together, but thank you, sweetheart."

"Nick!" yelled Aster, putting on his shoes near the back door. "We're going out!"

Nick came barreling down the stairs, sounding like an elephant more than a teenage boy. He kissed his mom on the cheek, hopping on one foot, pulling on a massive red sneaker as he did. Jack, in contrast, slipped on his beat up black canvas shoes quietly, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm.

"Where are we going?" inquired Nick.

"School," said Aster. "Jack's going to show us around."

"Brilliant!"

The three set out, walking in the direction of the school, north of their homes.

"Do you walk to school every day?" asked Aster, taking the side nearest the street.

"Yes," replied Jack. "It's only a mile and I don't have a car."

"And none of your friends give you a ride?"

"I don't really have a lot of friends."

"Oh, well, we'll drive you to school," offered Nick, looking at all of the houses in interest, taking in the old style and mixed architecture.

"You're dad isn't the greatest parent, is he?" observed Aster, causing Jack to freeze.

"Why would you say that?" he asked, what little color he had in his face pale fleeing.

"Well, it's just the way you act," shrugged Aster, not picking up on the smaller boys panic. "You're jumpy, quiet, you don't have a car, you spent the last day with a family you just met and your dad never once called or asked where you were, so he must be a pretty poor parent."

"He's busy," said Jack tightly, striding forward. "He's just really busy."

"Aster, leave him alone," whispered Nick.

"He's hiding something!" hissed Aster.

"Well considering he just met us yesterday, of course he is!"

"I want to know what it is."

"Curb the curiosity for a bit and I'm sure he'll tell you."

Aster glared, but held his tongue and followed Jack to the school. It was large, intricate, surrounded by a field of asphalt, void of cars until Monday morning.

"Is it unlocked?" asked Nick.

"No," said Jack. "But now you know where it is. And that part with the black roof is the theatre and that is the outdoor café, and those are the main doors."

"Now what?" demanded Aster, tugging on the red folded bandana that circled his head.

"Can we show him the tree house?" asked Nick eagerly.

"Um, sure," said Jack, only a bit uncertain.

Once they reached the tree house, Jack was sure to pull up the ladder behind them.

"This is incredible!" exclaimed Aster, lounging on the hammock.

They spent the afternoon munching on sandwiches they had purchased on the walk back from the school, chatting, and relaxing. Time seemed to stand still for them, the worries of the world and starting a new school the next day unable to reach them with the ladder removed.

"Aren't you warm, Jack?" asked Aster.

"No," said Jack, lying on his back and hugging his hoodie close in spite of the leftover heat from summer.

"Okay, tell us something we don't know about you," said Nick.

"I'm allergic to artificial smells," admitted Jack.

"Wait, like perfume?"

"Perfume, gas, air fresheners, house paint, anything that is not natural makes me sick to my stomach or pass out."

"That sucks."

"Your turn!"

"I'm terrified of hedgehogs," said Nick to the snickers of his brother. "Aster."

"I went by my first name, Eaman, when I was younger until my teacher called my name and didn't believe it was me," said Aster. "She thought Eaman was a girl and she sent me to the principal's office for being a wise guy. That's when I switched to my middle name, Aster."

"Eaman, that is a girls name" laughed Jack, holding his sides.

"I was little!" said Aster defensively. "I was born in Australia, it's a family name, my birth parents named me that, I didn't know it was a girl's name at the time."

"Okay, okay," chuckled Nick. "You're up, Jack."

"Um, I don't know."

"Well, why don't you tell us about school?"

"What about school do you want to know?"

"Why don't you have many friends there?" asked Aster bluntly, receiving a warning glare from his brother as a reward.

"People think I'm strange, so they don't like to be seen with me. Your turn, Nick."

They continued on, sharing trivial facts, devouring a tray of brownies, and whiling away the Sunday afternoon. For Jack, it was as close to joy as he could remember. Nick was sweet and intuitive, if loud, never pushing topics he appeared uncomfortable with while Aster was blunt, honest, but fiercely loyal. Jack didn't hear a single negative thing from him all afternoon. They were open, sharing about their sister and old life, and in turn, Jack allowed them little peeps into her world.

"I had a sister, too," he confided. "Her name was Pipaluk, but everyone called her Pippa. She was a year younger than me, but when I was four, she contracted died."

"I'm sorry," said Aster.

"Me too," sighed Jack. "I miss her, but I don't feel sad about it anymore. She's with mom, so they are both happy. Sometimes I wonder what type of person she would be like today."

"How did your mom die, if you don't mind my asking?"

"She was sick," replied Jack, his cold tone making it clear that he wanted it left there for the time being.

"What do people normally wear to school?" asked Nick, stepping in.

"Just clothes," shrugged Jack. "It's an arts and sciences school, so people wear all sorts of things. What you guys have on right now is fine."

"It's almost dinner time," commented Aster, glancing at his watch.

"Oh no!" gasped Jack, sitting bolt upright. "I have to get his dinner ready!"

***So, there is chapter two. And um...yeah, so Aster is adopted, and I will explain about Sandy later.**

**Still way unsure of posting this whole story, but I am really enjoying writing it, so I may as well share in case others enjoy reading it. Do you all want me to reply to every review in the author note? Sometimes I do that, sometimes not, but I don;t know what people like more, so it's whatever.**

**Hope you like if so far! Always-Ari**


	3. Pictures of Her

"Get who's dinner ready?" asked Aster, surprised at the turn of events.

Jack kicked the ladder back over the edge of the platform and climbed down with impressive speed that came from years of practice. In reality, Jack no longer required the ladder to get up or down the tree, he used it now out of habit. He could easily scale it without assistance and sometimes would, but that was not something his new neighbors needed to know about him. The brothers followed him down and then into his house like little ducklings. The kitchen had warm yellow walls like muted sunshine and dark cherry wood cabinets with black marble counters. Jack hated the walls, they were too bright in his opinion, but he loved the marble counters that were perpetually cool to his touch. He rushed about throwing a tray of lasagna he had prepared the day before into the over, willing it to heat faster than he knew it would.

"What are you guys doing here?" demanded Jack, spotting his new friends looking about curiously.

"Just looking around," said Nick. "Do you need help? I like the walls, but I think they would be better red."

"No," said Jack, smiling tightly as he glanced at the door out of the kitchen, pushing his white hair out of his face. "You guys should go see if your mom needs help making dinner."

"She won't need us for a while," shrugged Aster, leaning casually against the door frame to the living room.

"Okay," said Jack, his nerves skyrocketing when he spotted his father's car pulling up the driveway. "Then why don't I show you the rest of the house?"

He hustled the boys out of the kitchen, pointing out various rooms on the ground floor, talking a mile a minute, before rushing them up the stairs hardwood stairs.

"And this is my room!" he exclaimed, showing them his bedroom.

It was dark blue, almost black, with a perfectly made bed that had a sky blue bedspread, organized walk in closet that didn't seem to have many clothes occupying it, and large filled bookshelf. It was so clean it almost looked like a room from a magazine, unlived in, and it held a lack of personal effects to accommodate that image.

"There's a secret passage hidden in here," he said. "Why don't you guys look for it while I go and check on the food?"

Without waiting for an answer, he sprinted back out of the room, flying down the stairs. His father was just slamming the back door open as Jack pulled the steaming pasta out of the oven.

"Is that my dinner?" his father demanded.

"Yes sir," said Jack, stepping aside for him to inspect it, casting an uneasy look at the ceiling as if he could see the boys in his room through the floor.

"Why isn't it on a plate like it's supposed to be?" his father demanded, his voice like gravel crunching under the tires of a loaded down pick-up truck.

"Because it just finished heating," explained Jack, grabbing a plate from the cupboard near the oven as he spoke. "I'm putting it on a plate now, though."

His father grumbled but went to the sink to wash his hands.

"Jack, is this a picture of Pippa?" asked Nick, walking back into the kitchen, holding a framed photo that he had found hiding in the bookshelf in Jack's bedroom.

Jack closed his eyes as he set a slice of lasagna on the grey ceramic plate.

"Who are you?" demanded his father, staring at the tall stranger in his kitchen.

"This is Nick," said Jack, running between his father and new friend, forming an inefficient barrier with his slight form.

"And I'm Aster," announced Aster, emerging behind his brother. "You must be Jack's father."

"What are they doing here?"

"They just moved in next door," said Jack in a rush, his voice breathless sounding. "They go to my school."

"Is that a picture of-" began his father.

"Nick, put the picture down," hissed Jack, his blue eyes never leaving his father's steadily reddening face.

"I told you never to bring her up with me!" roared his father.

"I know!" cried Jack, his hands going up as if to show how unarmed he was. "I'm sorry, they didn't know, it won't happen again."

The brothers looked on in shock. Nick quickly shoved the frame into his back pocket, thanking the inventor of boy jeans for adding pockets that were so deep they could practically reach the moon.

"Get out!" screamed his father, pointing towards the back door. "It should have been you! The wrong one died that night! It should have been you!"

Jack and the boys escaped out the back door, panting as if they had just run a mile, gathering under the tree house tree. It took them several minutes to recover.

"I'm sorry about that," said Jack, scuffing his feet on the ground. "I should have warned you not to mention my sister in front of my dad, it's kind of a touchy subject with him. Well, I guess I should be going. You're going to want to get back to your family. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Jack," said Nick, causing the smaller boy to pause in his turn back to the house they had recently fled. "We're still driving you."

Aster hugged Jack, surprising both Jack and Nick, because Aster was not generally a touchy feely person and Jack wasn't used to physical contact of that sort. For a split second, Jack tensed up, waiting for a blow, but then he relaxed in Aster's grip, leaning his head against the taller boy's muscled chest.

"I'm sorry," Jack muttered. "You don't have to put up with me, I'll understand."

"Let's go have dinner at our house tonight," said Aster, letting go and leading the way across the green barrier, towing Jack and Nick behind him.

"Wait!" said Jack, digging his feet into the ground.

"What?" asked Nick, both boys staring at him as if he was crazy.

"You aren't going to tell your parents about this, are you?" asked Jack, his face desperate.

"Jack, I don't think it's smart for you to be around him," said Nick slowly.

"Please," begged Jack.

"He doesn't, like, hit you or anything, does he?" said Aster, eyeing Jack carefully.

"He just has a temper!" said Jack, not quite answering the question. "You can understand how hard it is for a parent to lose a child because you've seen it. And then mom on top of it, it was just too much for him. He's not right in the head, I'll give you that, but he needs me to take care of him. Please."

"Okay," sighed Aster, running his hand through his thick dark hair. "We'll keep quiet for now. But Jack, I really would rather you stay with us for the night. I think we made things worse on accident, bringing up Pippa."

"No, I don't want your parents to get suspicious. Don't worry about me, I can handle him. I'll just wait until he goes to sleep. He'll have forgotten by morning."

"If you say so," said Nick, not looking convinced but wanting to believe him more than anything. "Let's go have dinner now."

But the way he said it made it sound like, "Let's go forget this ever happened."

***Ever have one of those days where you are just feeling down about everything? Well, it's one of those days for me.**

**Always-Ari**


	4. Ways of Survival

After dinner with the St. North's, Jack went to his tree house and spent the night there, rising extra early to slip into the house as soon as his father left for work. He showered and toweled his hair dry leaving it messy and falling into his face. He had long since quit trying to make his hair lie flat. Then he slipped on a white shirt, favorite blue hoodie, and black jeans. His high cheek bones were naturally pale and gave him the look of perpetually smiling while his eyes glimmered with excitement. He picked up his black backpack that was more tape than backpack and rushed down stairs and out into the back lawn to wait for Nick and Aster to be ready for school. Unlike most teenagers, school was Jack's favorite part of the day.

"Jack, darling!" called Melody from the back door, looking around the yards.

"Hello, Melody," said Jack, walking over.

"Are you hungry, dear?" asked Melody, letting Jack into the house.

"No, I'm fine, but thank you," said Jack, fidgeting uneasily when he couldn't see the boys in the kitchen. "Are Nick and Aster ready?"

"Almost!" called Aster from the front room.

Soon, Nick and Aster were ready to leave. Melody took pictures of her sons individually, together, and then with Jack as if it was their first day of school ever and not the middle of semester, before kissing each one on the head and tearing up when they walked out the door.

"Your mom is so nice," said Jack, a hint of jealousy coloring his voice as he buckled himself into the front seat of Aster's truck.

"She is," agreed Nick. "And she adores you.

Jack practically glowed at that notion. He was quickly falling in love with that family and responding to their love and caring attitude like a flower in the sun. It was always spoiled before he could get too attached, but for the moment Jack wanted to pretend that this time would be different; it was just his nature even as his common sense told him to be careful. The drive to school was filled with energetic conversation as the boys discussed what they thought the school would be like. When they arrived, the parking lot was quickly filling up, so Aster grabbed the first spot he found and the three joined the sea of students flowing through the double doors. Since the brothers already had their schedules and locker numbers, Jack helped them get settled, showing them where each was.

"We have all the same classes," laughed Nick.

"Well, there aren't many classes for us to choose from," explained Jack. "They kind of lump all the art students together no matter what they are actually good at, something about wanting us to be rounded or whatever."

"Hello!" said a petite blonde girl who had sparkling white teeth and a skirt that played peek-a-boo with her butt. "I'm Katie! You're new, aren't you?"

"No, actually, my name is Aster, easily confused with New," said Aster, being snarky.

"You're funny!" laughed Katie, her tone tinkling as if a champagne glass shattered.. "Do you need help finding your classes?"

"I think we're set," said Nick. "Jack here has the same classes as us, so he can show us."

"Oh, you don't really want to hang out with him," smiled Katie. "He's nice, but a little strange if you know what I mean."

Jack looked at his feet. Katie had never liked him; the blonde was a music student and anyone who didn't sing or play an instrument was beneath her, unless they were a football player or dressed like a bad boy, in which case his place was worshipping at her feet. How she got into the school was beyond Jack, but she did.

"I don't know what you mean, actually," said Aster flatly, crossing muscled arms, his face unimpressed.

"Well, he's just quiet and fidgety, like a squirrel. And he's so small!"

"He's also standing right here," said Nick, giving the blonde a disapproving look, throwing an arm around Jack's thin shoulders.

"It was mildly unpleasant to meet you," said Aster as the bell rang.

"She's a piece of work," commented Nick as the three walked to their first class.

Jack grinned to himself. Having Nick and Aster around was more fun than he thought it would be.

Inside their first classroom, Jack sat down in a middle row with Nick and Aster on either side. There were no desks, just large tables that seated six.

"Hi, Jack!" greeted small perky girl who had hair the color of a sunshine in June. "I didn't know you had body guards!"

"They aren't body guards," said Jack, giving the girl a cocky grin. "This is Nick and Aster St. North. They just moved here. Nick, Aster, this is Sophie Bennet."

"I love your hair!" exclaimed Sophie, reaching over and petting Aster's fluffy hair like one would pet a rabbit or dog. "Oh, it's so soft!"

"Um, thanks," said Aster, a bit uncomfortably.

"Sorry, Sophie doesn't really have a sense of personal boundaries," explained Jack. "She's also a bit random, but you'll get used to her."

"Who are they?" demanded a harsh voice.

Nick and Aster turned to find a tall, dark clothed, strongly built girl with spikey brown hair, pink bow, and threatening eyes glaring at them. She turned her glower towards Jack, who surprisingly didn't flinch at the glare the way he normally did when people looked at him.

"Nick, Aster, this is Cupcake," introduced Jack. "Cupcake, these are my new neighbors Nick and Aster St. North. Please don't eat them."

Cupcake sized them up for a full minute before speaking to Sophie.

"Sophie, did you show Jack the new painting you did on your locker?" asked Cupcake.

"No!" squealed Sophie, jumping up and grabbing Jack's hand. "Jack, come on! You have to see! It's so cute!"

She pulled Jack out of the room before the poor boy could protest.

"Now," began Cupcake, leaning in towards the two new boys over the table. "I want to know what you are doing associating with Jack."

"He's our friend," said Aster, sneering at the girl, standing up so they were eye level. "He's also our neighbor and he's showing us around."

"Nothing else?" demanded Cupcake.

"How is it any of your business, anyway?"

"Because I'm not stupid!" hissed Cupcake. "And I will not have you two making his life more complicated than it already is."

"Wait," said Nick, holing up a hand. "You already know about…his dad?"

"I've known Jack since he moved here eight years ago," said Cupcake. "I know a lot more than he is even aware I know. So yes, I know about his father, and I will not have you two goons running in, mucking everything up, and putting him in more danger."

"More danger?" asked Aster, suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"Good morning miniature adults!" greeted the teacher, a stout man who waddled when he walked and glasses so think no one knew if his eyes were on them or elsewhere, ending the conversation.

Jack and Sophie rushed in and took their seats as class began. Meanwhile, on either side of Jack, his new friends stewed over what his old friend had said. Nick decided to let it go; Jack said his father was ill and that was good enough for him. Aster decided to pursue it further. He hated a mystery and that Cupcake girl was interesting. He appreciated her hostile manner, it was refreshing from most of the girls he knew who just fawned over his good looks and soft hair. He glanced at her where she sat across from Jack and compared the two. Cupcake, it seemed, had become hostile and scary to survive high school while Jack, who could be snarky, was willing to be a doormat in order to blend into the background and attract as little attention as possible. Aster wasn't sure which road was better.

***I have not slept in 38 hours, so sorry if there are a ton of mistakes or it's random (I don't think it is) but I wanted to get this out to you today.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed. I really appreciate it.**

**Always-Ari**


	5. Closet Talks

"Wait, Cupcake!" called Aster, chasing after the dark haired girl as the lunch bell sounded, weaving between students and teachers alike.

"No," said Cupcake in a bored tone. "If you want to talk to me, you have to go at my pace."

"Fine," grumbled Aster under his breath, catching up with her and falling in step with her long strides. "Now, I want to talk to you about Jack's dad."

"You're an idiot!" hissed Cupcake, grabbing his arm and dragging him into a supply closet.

"What are we doing in here?" he asked, a bit apprehensive as she slammed the door.

"You can't just go around asking about Jack's dad in front of everyone!" yelled Cupcake, advancing on him. "You are so stupid, you know that?"

"Well I'm sorry!" replied Aster, just as angrily. "Why don't you explain all of these rules you seem to have about Jack now so I quit breaking them!"

"Here's the rule- stay the hell away from him!"

"I'll bet you're the reason why he hasn't got any friends at this place."

"Don't you dare say that, ever! I'm the reason he hasn't been torn to bits here! People are mean and in case you hadn't noticed, he doesn't fit in. They know what happened to his mom and they say all sorts of things about it, blame him, make everything worse. You have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

"Wait, what happened to his mom? I thought she was sick and died. Why would people blame Jack for that?"

"You really know nothing about him," said Cupcake, shaking her head and softening her tone just a fraction.

"I've only known him for two days," said Aster defensively, folding his muscled arms.

"Well then let's start with what you do know, which can't be a lot, so it will be quicker."

"I know that his sister died when Jack was four," said Aster, trying to show off his knowledge. "I know his mom died almost nine years ago because she was sick. I know his dad is a jerk and says terrible things to Jack. I know his favorite color is blue and he's allergic to artificial smells. I know he's rather quiet but helpful and he always seems surprised when people do anything nice for him. And that's about it."

"Well, that tells me more than it doesn't," said Cupcake, leaning against the wall thoughtfully. "Lunch is almost over, so I don't have time to explain, plus, I think Jack should do most of the explaining."

"Do you think he will?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

"Because he already told you more than most people who have known him for the past eight years of his life know about him. For some strange reason he's taken a liking to you and your brother and that's the thing about Jack, he knows better and he steers clear of most people but he really does want friends. He's just too flighty for most people."

The bell sounded, signaling the end of the lunch period.

"I'll see you after school," said Cupcake.

She walked out of the closet before Aster could stop her. By the time he made it out, she was already lost in the sea of people.

"Aster!" called his brother, waving at him with Jack in tow. "You missed lunch! Where were you, it was like you disappeared."

"I just got to talking to Cupcake," shrugged Aster, seeing no reason to lie about the conversation, weaving his way over to his friends.

"I'm sorry about her," apologized Jack. "She comes off as mean but she is one of the best friends a person could have."

"You mean she's a jerk but you get used to it," nodded Aster, his mind still in the closet.

"Kind of like you, Aster," grinned Nick, clapping his meaty hand on his brother's back with a hearty laugh.

"Come on, we're going to be late for our next class," said Jack, tugging on Nick's sleeve and leading the way down the hall.

When the final bell rang, Jack, Nick, and Aster all gathered at Jack's locker, which he had painted to look like a park in winter.

"So, how did you like your first day here?" asked Jack, stalling the moment when he would have to go home.

"It was fine," replied Nick nonchalantly. "This school if pretty active and the people all seemed nice. I really think I'm going to like shop class."

"It was interesting," said Aster, scanning the crowd for Cupcake.

"Hey Jack," said Cupcake, walking up from the opposite direction that Aster was looking. "Ready to go?"

"Oh, right," said Jack, looking guilty. "I forgot, but Aster drove me to school today, and I figured that since lives right next door, he would give me a ride home."

"Of course I will," said Aster, confused as to why Jack thought he might not give him a ride home.

"That's fine," said Cupcake, glaring at the dark haired boy. "I'll just ride with you, if you don't mind."

"You're coming over today?" said Jack, a smile lighting up his face.

"Please, Jack, you sound like Sophie," moaned Cupcake, covering her ears. "Yes, I'm coming over today."

"Yay!" cheered Jack. "Aster, do you mind terribly if Cupcake comes with us? If you do, we can just walk, it's not a big deal. We were going to walk anyway."

"No, it's fine if she comes with us," said Aster, taking the opportunity to make peace with seemingly the most important of Jack's almost nonexistent friends. "Let's go."

The ride to the St. North's house was uneventful. As soon as the car was in park, Jack and Cupcake hopped out and headed towards Jack's yard.

"Wait!" called Nick. "Don't you guys want a snack?"

"What are we, five?" sneered Cupcake over her shoulder.

"My mom always makes after school snacks," shrugged Nick, unfazed by Cupcake's attitude. "Plus, she'll be dying to know how today went."

"Okay," said Jack wanting to make his new neighbors happy, tugging Cupcake back to the boy's yard. "Cupcake, you have got to meet their mother. She is the nicest person I have ever met. Her name is Melody and she makes the best meals I have ever had!"

Cupcake shook her head at her friends enthusiasm and regretted even more that she had to be away all weekend. If she had just been free last weekend, none of this would have happened.

"Hello, darlings!" greeted Melody when the teens walked through the back door.

The sweet aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted out to greet them like a hug, pulling them in and holding them close.

"How was your day at school?" asked Melody, setting a plate of warm cookies onto the kitchen table, along with glasses of milk.

"It was fine," said Nick, digging in to the cookies with great enthusiasm. "Mom, this is Cupcake, she's a friend of Jack's."

"It wonderful to meet you, Cupcake," said Melody, smiling at the new girl.

"It's nice to meet you too," replied Cupcake politely, inclining her head. "I'm sorry to intrude like this."

"Not at all! The boy's friends are always welcome. Please, help yourself to a cookie."

Melody quizzed her son's and their friends about their day at school, how their classes went, who they met, what the teachers were like, everything under the sun, until at last, she was satisfied and released them to do their homework and go about their teenagerly business. By some unspoken agreement, they all made their way up to Jack's tree house.

"Jack," said Cupcake once the ladder was pulled up and everyone settled. "I think you should tell the boys."

Cupcake was clearly not one to waste time beating around the bush.

"Tell them what?" asked Jack innocently, fiddling with his hoodie strings, leaning against the wall of the tree house, the dark wood contrasting with his white hair.

"You know what," said Cupcake with a look that meant she would not put up with Jack's nonsense. "At least the fluffy haired one. He's nosy and will find out regardless, so it's best that he hears it from you and not some random person at school, like Katie."

Jack made a face at the blonde haired girls name. Aster studied the smaller boy, remembering what Cupcake had told him earlier that day. Jack wanted friends, he wanted to trust people, and he wanted people to care, but from what Aster had seen and heard, Jack did not make friends well. Looking at the boy now, Aster could tell he was teetering on the verge of sharing something about his life to two boys he had only known for three days. The only conclusion Aster could come up with was that Jack really was that desperate for friends if he was going to share this quick.

"Fine," he sighed, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them close. "But honestly, I think you are making a way bigger deal about this than you need to, Cupcake. I would have told them eventually on my own. But whatever. Nick, Aster, I need to apologize to you both. I didn't exactly lie to you, but I also didn't tell you the whole truth, and I'm sorry. I'm not very good at opening up to people, if you hadn't guessed."

"You don't have to tell us anything if you don't want to," said Nick gently. "We'll understand."

"The thing is, Cupcake is right," sighed Jack, his voice shaking ever so slightly. "Even if I don't tell you, you're going to find out if you keep hanging out with me at school. I really rather you heard the correct version first."

"Correct version of what?" asked Aster, curiosity burning within him as he leaned forward to hear better.

"Rule number one," announced Cupcake. "No questions until the end, so shut up!"

"The correct version of how my mother died," said Jack.

***I actually hate this chapter still after rewriting it for the fourth time. I just really don't like it. Oh well, I like the next chapter more- you win some, you lose some.**

**Always-Ari**


	6. The Real Story

"The first thing you have to understand," said Jack, his voice soft, right hand running through his soft locks in a vain attempt to dispel nervous energy, "Is that I didn't lie when I said my mom was sick. She was very sick, for about as long as I can remember, really. Ever since my sister died, she was different. Most days she just stayed in bed and dad told me to play quietly and not bother her. Normally he'd just send me outside, calling me the wind, always moving and destroying, never still or silent, which is what my mother needed. She cried often. Dad spent all the time he wasn't working trying to help her, but she didn't get better. I think she just lost the will to live. I understand now that she was seriously depressed, but at the time I didn't know why she was acting so strange. The death of my sister hit her hard, like it did for your mother, but my mom never got over it. Her depression only got worse as time went on. I tried to be enough for her, but I wasn't, and it showed. I wasn't my sister.

"That was the thing about Pippa," said Jack with a soft smile of remembrance. "My mother did love me, it's not like she favored Pippa or anything. Pippa wasn't the world to my mother, but she was what held the world together and without her, my mom couldn't seem to hold her world in place anymore.

"I was at school that day," continued Jack, his hand again finding his hair to rake through it. "Dad was at work. I got home and wanted to show my mom the 100 I had received on my math test, so I went to her room, but she wasn't there. I searched the entire house, but couldn't find her, so I went to the forbidden room, my sister's room. They had kept it exactly as it had been the day my sister died. Time stood still in that room and I was not allowed in because I would mess it up. Sometimes I would sneak in there late at night just to look, just to confirm that Pippa really had existed and she wasn't just a figment of my imagination since my parents didn't like to talk about her.

"The door was locked that day, which was strange. My mom did love me, she didn't mean for me to find her, she just didn't know I had taken a spare key and hidden it in my room, just in case they ever tried to lock my sister's room away forever. So, I unlocked the door and found her on my sister's pink princes bed. She'd left a note, but I didn't read it right away. I ran to my room and hid under the bed. Maybe I could have saved her, I don't know, but I was young and scared. Dad got home an hour later, found her, and things went quickly after that. When the funeral was over, my dad moved us here, but like my mom, he never got over the deaths of his wife and daughter. But I learned from my mom, so I try to help and make his life easier. I think sometimes it's just too hard for him to see me because I remind him of them.

"I didn't kill my mother," said Jack, looking at Nick and Aster but sounding like he was trying to reassure himself more than anyone else. "But people say I did, I don't know why. Maybe it's because I don't say a lot to most people, maybe it's because I didn't do anything when I found her, but my mom killed herself. It wasn't my fault."

Tears began trickling out of the corner of his eyes, he pulled his hood up, and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to get a hold of his emotions. Cupcake said nothing, just sat back and watched. Nick stared on in disbelief, Aster in disgust, wishing to strangle Jack's already dead mother for abandoning her only living child.

"Don't hate her," said Jack quietly, his eyes meeting Aster.

"What?" said Aster, taken aback.

"I can see it on your face, you're starting to hate my mother. Don't. She was sick and not in her right mind. Life got too hard for her to face anymore, but don't hate her."

"She left you," hissed Aster, his anger at a woman he'd never met rising.

"She needed to get away."

"Don't make excuses for her! She had a choice and she chose to leave you! Mothers don't leave their kids! It's not right."

"Just stop," said Cupcake harshly.

"No!" yelled Aster. "That's so selfish of her!"

"Aster, please," said Jack, placing his pale hand on Aster's tough arm.

Instantly, Aster looked ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Jack," he apologized. "I guess it just really bothers me because it makes me see how close I came to losing my own mother for the same reasons."

"I'm happy you didn't," said Jack with a small smile. "You're very lucky."

"Wait, what?" said Cupcake, confused, looking between Jack, Aster, and Nick.

"Our sister died from cancer two years ago," explained Nick, the more even tempered of the two boys. "Our mom went into a depression for a year after, but managed to pull out of it."

"I'm sorry," said Cupcake, looking at her black combat boots. "Aster, I shouldn't have snapped."

"Neither should I," replied Aster, sighing. "But now we both know why we did. I did because of my mom, you did because of Jack."

"Is there anything else you want to tell them, Jack?" asked Cupcake, moving on from the apologies that made her uncomfortable.

"Not right now," said Jack, his hood still covering his hair. "But now you know."

Nick wanted to hug him, not knowing what to say, but Jack didn't strike him as a touchy feely type of person and persnickety about his personal space, so Nick just sat.

"People suck," declared Aster, leaning back against the rough wooden wall.

"Finally, something I can agree with you on," said Cupcake.

"She likes you!" laughed Jack, bouncing back from his emotional breakdown with practiced ease at made Aster question how much of it was an act and how much of his happiness was real.

Aster just shook his head. He couldn't decide how he felt about Jack's dark headed friend, but he appreciated how protective the dark haired girl was. It seemed that Jack needed it more than he had been originally aware.

"I don't like him," corrected Cupcake. "I just agree with him that people suck."

She pushed Jack playfully on the arm gently but Jack still winced a little.

"Jack," said Cupcake, her eyes flashing. "You know our deal."

"You were busy," muttered Jack, studying the dirty wooden floor as if the grain was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

"You know our deal," repeated Cupcake firmly. "Now let me see."

"No."

"Jackson."

"Later?"

"Fine."

"What's going on?" asked Nick, looking between Jack and Cupcake, trying to work out what was not being said and what Jack was trying to hide.

"Sometimes, you're really thick, Nick," said Aster, shaking his head.

Jack looked at him his blue eyes wide, alarm racing across his face as the realization that Aster knew fell into place. Aster stared back, his face cool. He knew, and to say that he was not pleased was an understatement.

***This chapter I like way more than the last chapter. I rewrote this one several times as well but I like it a lot more.**

**Also, thank you so much for your support! I only write for others to enjoy, so I'm glad you are enjoying it. As long as you like it, I shall write. Always-Ari**


	7. Let's Make a Deal

"Jack!" came a harsh whisper from down below, weaving its way around the trunk of the tree, through the branches, and into his hidden fortress.

The sun had set hours ago, Jack had said goodbye to his friends for the night, and he had assumed everyone had gone to sleep which was why he had snuck back up to his tree house. He was reading by the light of his electric lantern when that familiar voice broke through the leaves to his ears.

"Jack, I know you're up there! Let down the ladder or I'm going to start shouting for real!"

Jack sighed but kicked the ladder off the edge of the porch, secretly laughing at how the request made it sound like he was that princess with the long hair in a tower, whatever her name was. His mom had told him that story years ago and the details, like most things that had to do with his mom, were fuzzy at best. A few minutes later, Aster's head popped over the side.

"What's up?" asked Jack as brightly as he could manage.

"Why are you still up here?" asked Aster, making himself as comfortable as possible on the wooden planks.

"I was just enjoying the night for a bit before I go inside to sleep," said Jack, shrugging. "You?"

"I saw a light through the branches and wanted to check on you."

"Oh, well, consider me checked on."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, the natural night sounds rushing in the fill the air, bugs chattering away, a stray car rolling through the streets, a dog barking, two cats having a fight, and that ever present wind that whistled through the trees.

"What's on your face?" demanded Aster suddenly.

"Nothing," said Jack, turning away, trying to let the shadow from his raised hood cover his face from view.

Aster was quicker and slipped a hand under his chin, gently but firmly forcing his face back into the light of the lantern, pushing the hood down with his other hand as he went. He studied Jack's face for a minute that seemed more like an hour, not saying a word until he let go.

"Nothing has hands?" he asked mildly, raising an eyebrow.

"It's not a big deal," insisted Jack, panic settling in to the pit of his stomach, the gears in his mind turning as he sought a way to talk himself out of the situation.

"Your dad hurts you," said Aster.

The statement sat there, settling between them on the worn wooden boards, boldly daring Jack to deny it.

"He's not well," said Jack quietly, as if that made it all better, as if that excused his father's actions.

"You don't have to fix him," said Aster softly. "You don't have to live like this."

"You don't get to tell me what to do," said Jack, his voice deathly still. "You barely know me, you met me last weekend, you have no control over me. Yes, I've told you a bit about my life, yes I told you about my mother, but that doesn't make you the boss of me. I only told you about my life because you guys were talking about yours and you bothered asking, something most people don't do. And I only shared about my mom because Cupcake made me. And you can't report it. My dad's a cop, no one would believe you. Trust me, Cupcake already tried that."

"I wasn't going to report anything," said Aster, looking surprised.

"Then why are you here? I know you already guessed it this afternoon, maybe even suspected before."

"Perhaps I wanted my guess confirmed."

"Well now it has been, so just leave."

"Jack, I'm not trying to upset you," said Aster, his tone turning intense. "I want to help you."

He looked at the smaller boy with such sincerity, Jack almost believed him; he wanted to believe him.

"You can't help," said Jack so softly the wind almost snatched it away before Aster's keen hearing caught it. "He's bigger than you and smarter."

"How about we make a deal?"

"I already have one of those with Cupcake, I don't think I need to make another."

"What's your deal with Cupcake, then?"

"When he hits me, I have to tell her. In return, she keeps quiet and makes sure no one suspects at school, so she brings make-up. Which is girly, I know, but whatever."

"Well then how about we make a similar deal? Obviously not the make-up bit, but you tell me when it happens and I sneak out here and bring you ice or whatever else you need."

"What do you get out of the deal?" asked Jack, suspicious of anyone, especially anyone who was trying to help him for no apparent reason.

"The same that Cupcake does, I get to stay informed."

"And you promise you won't tell anyone? You won't tell your parents or Nick?"

"I won't tell anyone, not even Nick," swore Aster solemnly.

Jack stared hard at him, measuring his nerve. He had only known this boy for three days, but he already figured out what was going on with his father, so what choice did he really have?

"Fine."

They shook on it.

"Here," said Aster, opening up the small back pack he had on his back with a sly smile and pulling out an ice pack. "I thought you might need this."

Jack's eyes welled up with tears.

"What is wrong with me?" he asked aloud, his voice unnaturally choked. "I never cry like this."

"You just aren't used to people caring about you," shrugged Aster as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He shook his head which dislodged some tears with the movement, white hair catching the light and looking like strands of snow attached to his head.

Aster gathered him in his arms with a soft sigh. He felt Jack tense up for a moment and in that moment, something in his being shifted, making room for the boy he held, hating any one or thing that would set Jack so on edge constantly, and knowing he would do anything he could to help him now that he saw the all trusting and sharing Jack was just a façade to keep everyone from wondering what went on at home. Jack went out of his way to make people who talked to him feel like they knew all there was to know about him because then they wouldn't look for the bruises of jumps at physical contact, they wouldn't notice the fact that they really knew so little. In his small world, Aster cared for few people, having been disillusioned by the suffering his sister went through and disheartened by the judgments people passed on his family for being adopted, but he, like Cupcake, found his cool exterior melting to this undersized boy with startlingly blue eyes and oddly white hair for no discernible reason. As Jack relaxed into his grip, Aster placed his head softly on top of his and pulled him closer, keeping Jack from falling apart by holding him together.

***This is another chapter that I am not sure I like. Don't get me wrong, I personally enjoy filler chapters because I love getting to know characters more and what makes them tick, but for some reason I had a rough time making this one sound good. Again with the rewriting and yet I am left unsatisfied. Alas.**

**Now I'm going to be a tease so if you don't like teases, don't read this next sentence. -Next chapter has more drama with Jack's father.-**

**Thank you all for the support! I love hearing from all of you and I honestly take everything you say to heart and into consideration.**

**Always-Ari**


	8. Don't Scream

Jack slipped back inside his house early the next morning. His father hadn't left for the day yet, but Jack needed the extra time to shower and start laundry. After years of practice, he ghosted around, sliding in and out of rooms, cleaning and gather laundry as he went. Then, when that was finished, he showered quickly. Relishing in the warm water that ran over his body until, too quickly, it was over and he was toweling his short hair dry. A grey long sleeved shirt and brown skinny jeans would suffice for his outfit, he would toss on his favorite hoodie later, and he ran down to the kitchen to pop bread into the toaster. While that warmed, he threw the first load of laundry into the washer and started it up.

"Where's my breakfast?" demanded his father, marching into the kitchen much like a knight would march into a duel he knew he would win.

Tuesdays were his day off and often resulted in a fit over breakfast. Always over something. Jack hated Tuesdays most of all.

"Right here!" he said brightly, hopping over to the toaster, pulling out the toast, buttering it and placing it on a plate next to an already poured cup of coffee.

"Well, give it to me!"

He handed him the plate and jumped out of his reach. He hovered anxiously next to the toaster, knowing he was not dismissed until his father either left or told Jack to leave. It was still too early for the neighbors to be awake enough to hear and yelling and Jack certainly did not want to start anything.

"Why is there no bacon?" he screamed, a string of spit landing on Jack's face.

"We are out of bacon," whispered Jack, anticipating the oncoming fit.

His father let out a bellow of rage and began throwing things like a three year old who had been told he would get no sweets that day. Jack sank down and covered his head, waiting for it to pass, flinching every time something hit him. At last, his father seemed to wear himself out and settled down to eat his toast once more. Jack took the lull to quickly set the kitchen back in order, grab his backpack, and run out the door.

It was still too early for him to expect the St. North's to be awake, so he contented himself with going back to the ladder to read more of his book in the tree house. He didn't even make it a rung up when he had to step back and look at his hands. At some point during his father's tirade, he'd managed to throw a knife at Jack, which had bitten deeply into his right hand, leaving a gash he was sure needed stitches in his palm.

"Well that's a first," he said quietly to no one in particular-no one was ever there.

He had never thrown a knife before.

Still, Jack needed to get up that ladder, so he went about the painful business of climbing up at a slower pace than normal. When he reached the top, he didn't even bother pulling the rope ladder up after him, instead focusing on not bleeding on his shirt or pants and turning on his walkie talkie.

"Hey?" he said, his voice tentative, uncertainty lacing the single syllable word.

Static replied to him loudly.

He tried pressing the call button then.

"Hello?" came the bleary response.

"Hey, sorry," said Jack. "I swear I wouldn't bother you this early normally but-"

"It's fine," yawned Aster. "That's why I gave you the walkie talkie. I'll be over in a few."

"Thanks," said Jack, setting down the device, still unsure that calling had been a smart idea, but in all honesty, a mad Aster scared him almost as much as his father on a normal day.

Last night, after he had calmed down some, Aster had given him several items and even more instructions.

_"This walkie talkie will always be on me," said Aster, handing Jack the match. "I got a friend from my old home to fix them up, so they won't be so obnoxious. Anyway, you use that to call me any time I'm not with you. I don't care what time it is, if you need anything, just call, I'm a pretty light sleeper, so I'll wake up. And if anything happens, I want to know right away. If you so much as get a paper cut I had better hear my walkie talkie going off. Understand?"_

_"Yes," said Jack._

_"Good. Now, here are some snacks and this is bug spray. I hate bugs, so please keep it up here for my sake."_

Jack smiled at the memory. Bugs didn't bother him.

"You have got to be kidding me," said Aster, hoisting himself onto the platform, his eyes automatically drawn to the gash on Jack's hand.

"Good morning to you, sunshine," replied Jack, trying to lighten the mood.

Aster, it appeared, was never a morning person.

"Please tell me this isn't normal," said Aster, already opening his first aid kit. "Because if this is normal, I swear to God, Jack, I can't stay quiet."

"He's never thrown a knife at me before," said Jack quickly, not quite answering the question.

"He threw a knife?" screamed Aster, his dark hair flying as he whipped his head around, glare falling on Jack.

"Please don't be mad!" said Jack, alarm filling his eyes.

Aster took a deep, calming breath, trying in vain to settle his emotions. It would take some getting used to for him to keep his temper in check and remember how easily Jack scared. He was already regretting his promise not to tell anyone what was happening, but he also didn't see what good it would do. Like Jack had said, his dad was a cop and Cupcake had already tried that course of action, to no avail.

"You need stitches," commented Aster, moving to clean the wound with a foul smelling liquid.

"I know," said Jack, his eyes downcast.

"If you promise not to scream, I can do that here," said Aster, his voice low, anger barely concealed.

"What?"

"When we adopted my sister, we all took first aid courses just in case anything happened," explained Aster. "I spent so much time at the hospital, I had to find a way to entertain myself, so I watched the doctors and nurses. Eventually, my parents put me in medical classes to keep me out of trouble, and I learned all sorts of interesting things from them, including how to stitch people up."

"Okay," said Jack slowly.

"But, I only have a mild numbing agent, so you're going to have to try not to scream, because it's going to hurt."

"Go for it, I won't scream."

And he didn't. He didn't even flinch, just sat patiently as Aster sewed the wound shut. It impressed the taller boy until he realized how much worse Jack had probably had to deal with on his own, then it made him mad, so he turned his full attention on his task.

"Hey Jack," greeted Cupcake, joining the two on the platform.

"Hey Cupcake!" said Jack, lighting up at the sight of the darkly dressed, moody girl.

"Hello, Cupcake," greeted Aster, trying to infuse some warmth in his voice that he didn't feel towards the girl.

"What are you doing here?" replied Cupcake with a sneer, not bothering to pretend she liked the new boy.

"Just finishing up stitching up Jack here."

That drew Cupcake's eyes to her friends now gauze wrapped hand.

"Jack?" she asked, warning in her voice.

"I was waiting until you got here to tell you," explained Jack, looking meek. "Aster figured it out-no thanks to your less than subtle inquiry yesterday- so he made me promise I'd tell him when it happened too and he would fix it as best he could. This only happened this morning, so it's okay!"

Cupcake just shook her head and handed over the palest stage concealer to hide to massive bruise on Jack's face.

Again, Aster drove Nick, Jack, and Cupcake to school in his truck. Once there, Sophie ran up to them, her blonde hair waving behind her like a kite tail.

"Jack!" she squealed. "I got this bag of gummy worms! Look!"

Sophie shook her prize in the air, the bag already half eaten.

"No, no, no," said Jack, snatching the bag out of his friends hand.

"Mine!" complained Sophie, arms crossing over her chest as she pouted. "What happened to your hand?"

"Oh, I cut it with a knife when I was making breakfast," said Jack nonchalantly, keeping as close to the truth as possible.

"Aster," said Katie in her girlish voice, skipping up to the group as they talked by Jack's locker, ignoring the rest of them. "I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch today?"

"I always eat lunch," said Aster, a snarky grin spreading across his handsome face. "I don't need permission to do that."

"You're just so funny!" laughed Katie, doubling over. "But really, do you want to eat lunch with me?"

"No."

"Well, then, maybe tomorrow," said Katie.

"Probably not."

"I'll meet you for coffee later!" sang Katie, skipping away before Aster could protest, her skirt playing peek-a-boo with her butt again.

Nick laughed at the look of shock on his brother's face while Sophie talked a mile a minute, oblivious to the encounter.

"And then I caught the squirrel, but my mom said I couldn't keep him," finished Sophie, twirling in circles, her dress flaring out and making a pink cloud about her legs.

"Sophie, you have all the energy of a coffee flavored pixie stick," said Jack with a grin that convinced almost the entire school that his life was fine.

***Ta-da! More drama and more learning about Aster. I like Aster...he is interesting...and over protective of the few people he likes.**

**Want another spoiler? If you don't, don't read the next sentence. -Jack's birthday is next chapter and there will be some, um, fun.-**

**Finally-thank you so much for the support! You're the best! Always- Ari**


	9. Breakfast Time

Everything settled into a sort of comfortable routine over the next couple of weeks. Aster drove Nick and Jack, and on occasion Cupcake, to school each morning after the three neighbors had breakfast together made by Melody, they went to classes where Aster and Jack quickly became competition for the best painter in the school, they hung out after school either at a local coffee shop, park, the St. North's house, or Jack's tree house, then they went to their respective homes, slept, and repeated the process. Sometimes Sophie joined them, sometimes not.

Saturday morning dawned just as bright-if not a bit colder- as the one three weeks before on the day the St. North's moved in had dawned. Jack was up before the sun as usual, sweeping the house for any dirt or grime that dared show itself, then showering and making breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. His hand had healed up nicely, leaving an angry red scar still tender to the touch running down his palm. There had been no other bad injuries since then, the occasional smack or shove, but nothing drastic; it helped that he spent most of his time away from the house. That morning, Jack had opted for a light white short sleeved shirt and dark wash jeans and had left his favorite hoodie in his room instead of risking getting bacon grease splashed on it. He hummed absently to himself as the bacon sizzled on the pan.

"Do you know me like you think you do, the days move quickly past," sang Jack, his voice soft but beautiful and mesmerizing. "We hold on and keep trying to make this summer last. But soon it will be over, soon it won't be fine. We're holding on to waves but we cannot stop the time."

He turned down the heat and took the trash out to the large trash cans outside.

"Why Jack, you're certainly up early for a Saturday," said Melody, who was sipping coffee on the wooden deck with her husband.

"Hello, Melody, Sandy," smiled Jack. "How are you this morning?"

"Doing very well," said Sandy politely. "What about you?"

Jack smiled at the man. Nick had explained to him that Sandy had not spoken until he was seven and as he grew older became hard of hearing, so his speech sounded different and often times he would use sign language to communicate instead of speaking aloud. Jack, who knew some sign but not a lot, appreciated the effort the man put in to make him feel more at ease.

"I'm doing great!" said Jack, joy practically seeping out of his pores. "It's a really nice day today."

"You are such a happy individual," laughed Melody. "Is your father home? We'd love to meet him."

"He is getting ready for work, I think," said Jack evasively, smile still plastered firmly in place. "He's running a bit late this morning, though, so I don't know if he'll have time to say hello before he leaves."

"Oh, well maybe some other time. The boys will be up later."

"Or you can go pour water on them now and wake them up," said Sandy, winking in a friendly manner.

Laughing, Jack shook his head. "It's fine. I'm sure they'll let me know when they're ready to hang out."

After a few more minutes of talking with his neighbors Jack went back inside. He placed the food on the table, arranging everything with a care that seemed borderline obsessive, going so far as to place a single daisy in the vase in the center of the table, making it look like a staged room for a magazine shoot. Although he would never tell another soul, he secretly loved white daisies, the way the white seemed to glow no matter what the background, like snow in the sun. They were peaceful, happy flowers, everything his life was not, and Jack envied them for that.

"Good morning," greeted Jack, smiling at his father as the taller man walked in.

He grunted a general acknowledgement, sat down at the table, and immediately began eating. Jack shrugged and washed a dirty frying pan in the stainless steel sink, not letting even his father's perpetually sour attitude spoil his good mood.

"You missed some," said his father, dropping his plate in the sink with a smirk.

"Okay," said Jack, picking up the plate to wash it as well.

"What are you so happy for?"

Jack shrugged his slim shoulders which looked even smaller in the slightly large shirt.

"I asked you a question!" sneered his father, grabbing Jack by his shoulders and shaking him roughly.

"I'm happy because-" began Jack before a hand across his face stopped his speech.

"I don't care!" yelled his father.

Jack nodded his understanding, the stinging radiating off his face bringing his mood down a fraction. As his father's screaming picked up steam, Jack zoned out, retreating to the place he always went when things began to get intimidating, visualizing being far away from his home. In that place, sometimes Jack was playing in the snow on a day school had been canceled, laughing as the soft flakes tickled his nose, starting a snowball fight with friends that didn't exist, and skating at the local pond. Other times he was in the art room at school painting a canvas far larger than he was. Every once in a while he was with his mother years ago, before everything. The only happy memory from his childhood that he still had was on his mother singing to his sister and him. His mother did not have a particularly beautiful voice but it was pleasant enough and it was the safety of the moment he treasured. Sitting on his mother's lap with his baby sister, listening to his mother sing softly, that moment represented a lost opportunity. Maybe his father had been there, maybe it wasn't even a real memory and just a scene his love deprived mind had conjured, he didn't know. The memory or whatever it was grew harder to recall as the years passed.

"Hello?" came a worried voice, the kitchen door swinging open to reveal the morning air. "Is everything okay?"

Jack looked up from his place on the ground, staring with wide eyes through the door, terrified.

_Happy birthday to me,_ he thought blearily.

***Does anyone else have memories that they aren't sure are really memories? **

**Thank you for the support! You all are the best and because you keep asking is the only reason I updated today.**

**Always- Ari**


	10. Birthday

_Happy birthday, dear Jack_, sang Jack in his head, his eyes drifting shut, sweet darkness rushing up to envelop him like a blanket well loved but slightly ominous blanket. The sensation of falling away from pain baffled his slipping mind. It was as if he was falling and floating at the same time, like dropping through water.

_The words you hear give you the chills_, thought Jack, his mind flipping through songs like a juke box to distract from sensations he couldn't understand. _Following hurts, but leading kills._

It was only when the screaming stopped the Jack realized anyone had been yelling in the first place. Someone was poking at him but instead of pain it was just mildly irritating. A voice was trying to tell him something, but it was like being under water, the words were distorted, impounding upon themselves, bending and waving, making it impossible to know who was even talking much less what they were saying. In a perverse way, he didn't even care, he just wanted them to let him fall into the darkness and stay there, out of reach.

"Lemme alone," he muttered, inadvertently breaking the barrier between his mind and reality.

Noises and sensations came rushing in together like a tidal wave, slamming into him, making his stomach roll and seethe. He bit down on his lower lip, refusing to open his eyes, instead trying to will a rebelling stomach into submission. Vaguely, he wondered if his father felt like that towards him, like he was an upset stomach that needed to be mastered. Then his head joined his stomach and swam sickeningly.

"What happened?" came a shrill, panicked voice.

"He fell down the stairs!" yelled his father, his tone one of panic.

That panic could have been taken for concern over his son, but Jack knew better, his father was just afraid he'd been caught.

"No, he did not! He-" another voice joined the fray.

"Ow!" moaned Jack, interrupting the speaker while trying to flick his eyes open.

"Jack!"

"I fell down the stairs," groaned Jack. "I fell….down…"

"Shh, darling, it's alright," said Melody, coming into focus. "Are you hurt?"

Jack blinked, looking past Melody to the dark eyes of his father. Mr. Frost shook his head in warning.

"No," said Jack, uncertainly. "Just sore, I think."

Cupcake kneeled next to him and helped Jack into a sitting position.

"What are you doing here?" hissed Jack, wincing as he remembered spotting Cupcake at the open door before his eyes had closed.

"Are you sure you're okay?" asked Cupcake, ignoring the question.

"I'll be better after some ice cream," said Jack, raising his eye brows in an attempt to silently communicate how badly he didn't want to talk about it right then.

"Jack, darling, maybe you should go see the doctor?" said Melody. "You fell down some stairs, you could be hurt pretty badly."

"I'll make sure he gets looked at by someone," said Jack's father.

"Okay," conceded Melody. "I'm Melody St. North, by the way. You must be Jack's father. I'm so sorry for barging in like this, but when I heard you and Cupcake yelling, I wanted to make sure everything was alright. Your son is so special to my family already, I just couldn't imagine anything bad happening to him."

"He's something, that's for sure," agreed Jack's father. "But I have to go to work now. Jack, try to stop being so clumsy. By the way, I'm leaving town this afternoon and I'll be back sometime next month. Bye!"

He strode out to his car, leaving a speechless Melody and irate Cupcake staring after him.

"Well, Jack," said Cupcake, hauling Jack to his feet. "Let's get you that ice cream. Melody, are the boys awake yet? Maybe they want to come with us if they are."

"I'll go wake them up," said Melody, still trying to process what had happened. "They'll be ready in no time. Would you two like to come over and wait?"

"I think I'm going to change, actually," said Jack, leaning casually against the black marble countertop. "But thank you. Oh, and will you tell Aster when you see him that I left something in his backpack?"

"Sure."

With that, Melody walked back to her house, still in a daze.

As soon as the kitchen door shut, Cupcake rounded on Jack.

"What happened?" she demanded. "I came over to give you your birthday present and I find him screaming and beating you into a pulp."

"I'm sorry," sighed Jack, one hand running through his light locks. "I don't even know what happened this time. I'm sorry you had to see that, but thank you for not telling Melody."

"Jack, you can't keep living like this," whispered Cupcake, worry coloring her normally harsh voice. "And I can't keep covering for you all the time."

"I need to change," said Jack.

He walked away, leaving Cupcake in the kitchen alone. Cupcake stayed that way until Aster came rushing in, his backpack in hand.

"What happened?" he said, his soft hair flying to a halt seconds after the rest of him. "My mom said Jack fell down the stairs. Where is he?"

"He's upstairs changing," said Cupcake. "He didn't fall down the stairs either. I don't know how your mom believed that lie, Jack wasn't even close to the stairs."

"Hey Aster!" said Jack cheerfully, strutting into the kitchen in a long sleeved light blue hoodie that hid his bruises well.

"Jack," began Aster.

"It happened again," rushed Jack. "I thought you should know, since I promised I'd tell you. But I'm okay. And he's going to be out of town until January, so you won't have to worry about me."

"Wait, he's leaving town over Christmas?" said Aster, his tone one of disgust.

"He always leaves town for the holidays," shrugged Jack, clearly not bothered by that fact. "He doesn't like to celebrate them."

At the St. North's house, Nick finished getting ready in his room with his door open at a contrastingly unhurried pace, unlike his brother.

"Nicky sweetheart," said his mother, leaning against the doorway. "Is everything okay with Jack?"

"Yes, why?" said Nick, pausing as he combed his hair, surprised by the question.

"I don't know, I just get the feeling that something's going on at his home that isn't good," admitted his mother. "His father just announced he's leaving town for a month, right after Jack fell down the stairs. Who leaves their child after such a thing?"

"Jack said his dad was busy," reasoned Nick, again biting back the nagging doubt in his head. "But, if it makes you feel any better, I can ask him if anything is wrong."

"No, no!" said his mother quickly. "I don't want to scare him or offend anyone. I do think he should stay with us until his father gets back, though. I don't like the idea of him having to stay in that big house all by himself, he would get so lonely."

"Okay, mom, I'll let him know."

Nick kissed his mom's cheek and went to join his friends. He didn't notice the anxious look his mother gave his back nor how she was still ringing her hands as she always did when she was thinking. Melody knew Nick was a good boy and would have told her if he knew anything but she doubted her son had any clue what went on with his neighbor. If anyone was going to know, it would be Aster, who was more confrontational than his brother and seemed to spend more time with Jack. Melody made a mental note to ask Aster about his friend when they got home for the night but she knew it would have to be done delicately. Aster was only just starting to open up since his sister's death and she didn't want to overwhelm him and scare him back into his moody shell.

***Sorry I didn't update yesterday, I was working until the wee hours then opted for an hour nap before going back to work instead of updating. Then I was going to update all of my stories tonight but some huge storms rolled in and when I wasn't taking cover I was trying to help with clean up and keep everyone calm and figure out what all the damage was.**

**The point is-here is the next chapter. **

**Always-Ari**


	11. Warning Signs

After ice cream, Cupcake, Nick, Aster, and Jack all went back to Jack's deserted house.

"Oh, by the way, my mom wants you to stay with us until your dad gets back," said Nick casually as Jack gave them a proper tour of the house.

"I can't do that," said Jack, his eyebrows crinkling with concern. "It'll be over the holidays and that's a time for family, not family and the awkward boy next door."

"Yeah, I don't really think mom thinks of you that way," said Nick with a smile. "I think it would be more of family and the son's best friend/wish he was my son as well to her."

Jack beamed up at Nick at that comment, his insides warming over as if he'd had downed an entire glass of hot coffee in one go. Over the last three weeks, Jack had grown incredibly attached to his neighbors and especially Melody, who was like the mother he never had. Over time, he was even warming up to Sandy, even if it was just a tiny bit. It wasn't Sandy's fault, after all, that Jack was not at ease around him and he really was a nice man.

"Well, if you're sure," said Jack slowly, not wanting to refuse the invitation but not wanting to intrude either.

"We're sure," assured Nick. "How about you grab your stuff now and bring it over?"

"Okay! Cupcake, will you help me pack?" asked Jack jumping up with a wince.

"Sure," agreed Cupcake, following her excited friend to his room while the boys went to tell their parents that Jack had agreed to stay with them.

"Admit it, you like them!" teased Jack as he placed his perfectly folded clothes into a suitcase that had not seen the light in years.

"Nick is nice but Aster is full of himself," scoffed Cupcake, sitting on the bed.

"No," corrected Jack, moving on to the closet. "Nick is blissfully in his own world and Aster is a male version of you."

"I am not like Aster at all!" said Cupcake indigently.

"You're both fairly good looking, brutally honest, and don't put up with nonsense," laughed Jack. "I'd say you're rather similar."

"They have nice parents," conceded Cupcake, changing the focus.

"They do," said Jack, leaning briefly against his closet doorframe in thought. "They are so lucky."

Cupcake shook her head, wishing Jack had the same luck, and helped her light haired friend bring his belongings down the stairs, not that there was much to bring. The boys waited at the kitchen door for them, both grinning like fools with candy.

"Here, let me get that for you," said Nick, taking the light backpack from Jack as Aster took the other from Cupcake. "Mom is thrilled that you're staying. She had the guest room all ready by the time I told her you had said yes."

"That's really nice," said Jack, suddenly shy.

He followed Nick and Aster into their house, up the stairs, and too a room just south of theirs. Melody and Sandy's master suite was on the ground floor, leaving the boys upstairs with the guest rooms. The room Jack was staying in had its own bathroom. The room itself was a calming shade of blue with mellow yellow trim and matching bed frame, giving it a beachy feel. The bathroom was a light blue grey, quaint, and already equipped with towel and toothbrush.

"Do you like your room, darling?" asked Melody, who walked in, anxiously wringing her hands.

"It's beautiful!" gushed Jack, his breath nearly taken away by the sheer serenity of the place; it seemed to ooze relaxation and safety from the pores in the walls.

Then, in an uncharacteristic act, he went over and hugged Melody. It wasn't the first time the two had embraced, Melody had hugged Jack before, but Jack had never been the one to instigate the contact. He normally kept to himself and only responded when someone else made the first move.

"Well, dinner is going to be ready soon," said Melody, who left, swiping her eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?" Jack asked the boys, nervous that he had upset Melody.

"No, I'll go check on her," sighed Aster, walking after his mother, leaving Jack, Nick, and Cupcake to get Jack settled in.

"Hey, mom!" said Aster, catching up with his mom in the living room.

"Yes, dear?" asked his mother.

"What's the matter? Did Jack upset you?" asked Aster, cutting to the heart of the problem, as usual.

"No, sweetheart!" said Melody, surprised and turning to her oldest son. "Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"You left crying."

"Oh, well, it was just the first time he hugged me."

"So?"

"Aster, darling, I have to ask you something," said Melody, walking her son to the couch where his father sat reading a book. She tapped him on the shoulder and made sure he was looking before continuing. "Sandy, I want you to listen as well."

"Yes dear," signed Sandy, obediently setting his book to the side and giving his wife his full attention.

Aster had always been impressed by the devotion his father showed his mother. It didn't matter what the situation was, no matter how busy Sandy seemed to be, he dropped everything for his wife and never seemed bothered by the interruption. It was as if nothing in the world was as important to him as his family.

"Aster, what is Jack's home life like?" asked Melody, signing the words as she spoke them so her husband caught everything. She had been hoping to put off the conversation until later in the evening, but she had Aster alone now and wanted to take advantage of that fact.

"Why?" asked Aster, trying to buy his racing mind time.

"He just seems so….different, I guess," said Melody. "I'm not sure how to explain it. But he always seems so shocked when we're nice to him and then his father leaving for a month, and over the holidays too! I just want to know if you've noticed anything."

"He's not the world's best father," admitted Aster, hoping to conversation would drop at that. "But Jack said his dad goes away during the holidays every year."

"But why?"

"He works a lot," said Aster, grasping at straws, trying to keep his cool demeanor.

"You would tell us if something was going on over there that we would need to know about, right?" signed Sandy, eyeing his son carefully.

"Yes," said Aster, reasoning in his mind that if he could not handle Jack's father, then he would let his parents know.

"Then I want you to answer us honestly," said his dad aloud, looking the boy who looked like the stereotypical brooding teenager but was really a soft hearted jaded young man in the eye. "Does Jack's father abuse him?"

*** Sorry! I know I didn't update yesterday. Are any of you so clumsy it should be considered a disability? Well, I am and it's just to humiliating to explain to you why I couldn't update yesterday.**

**At any rate, I really hope this chapter makes up for the slower update. Enjoy! Always-Ari**


	12. Half Truth

If he thought his mind had been racing before, he had been wrong. At his father's question, Aster's mind broke the sound barrier, the crack almost audible outside of his head. It was like being caught between a rock and a hard place, part of him wanting to tell his parents what was going on, another part of him wanting to keep Jack's trust and stay quiet about the matter. Cupcake had tried before to get Jack out of that situation and nothing had come from it. While Aster was still not Cupcake's biggest fan he had no reason to believe that she had lied to him or had not tried her hardest. On the other hand, his parents had more experience in general and may know a way around Jack's father. But if they did not manage to get around Jack's father and the man found out and moved Jack away again, or if Jack was taken away from his father and placed in a foster home, there would be no way for Aster to watch over him and there would be no promise that he would be in a better place. Aster had heard horror stories of foster homes from the people he had met in support groups his mother had just insisted on placing him in after his sister's death and Aster did not want Jack to be sent somewhere just as dangerous as his original home. In a year, Jack would be 18 and could move out then, but if his father continued on, he may not make it another year. Aster was torn.

"Jack is 17 years old," began Aster, not sure where he was headed, but knowing he could not continue with the silence.

"I thought he was 16," said Melody.

"Today is his birthday," explained Aster, waving his hand dismissively. "So he's 17 now."

"Oh, we should do something special for him!" said Melody, lighting up at the idea. "We can take him out to a nice place or what is his favorite meal? I could make that!"

"You didn't answer the question, Eaman," said his father sternly, placing a gentle hand on his wife's arm to bring her back to the situation at hand.

Eaman. Aster knew he was not getting out of answering when his father brought out his first name.

"Do you remember when Grace died?" asked Aster after taking a deep breath and moving to perch on the arm of the chair closest to the door, poised and alert.

Both of his parents froze, unsure of how the conversation had turned to the still uncertain topic of their dead daughter. They would talk about Grace sometimes, but for the most part it was a side of life they did not mention because no one was sure if the other was ready. It all still seemed too new even after two years. Some mornings Melody would wake up and start making breakfast for five before she remembered that there were only four of them now. In the dark hours of the night when everyone else was dreaming, Sandy would wonder what Grace would be dreaming of if she were still with them. Nick would pick up his phone at school to call his sister, asking for a ride, before it hit him that she would never pick him up again. And Aster, Aster was left in his own world, fully aware of every day and hour that passed, marking a new record of how long he could go without feeling anything at all because not feeling was easier than facing the pain.

"Yes," said Sandy slowly.

"Of course," whispered Melody.

"How did you guys get over it?" inquired Aster.

"We didn't," said Sandy simply. "That's not something you ever get over, I think. The pain of losing a child never goes away, you just learn how to live with the pain."

"I know I didn't handle it well in the beginning," admitted Melody, guilt coloring her voice, causing a line of pain to Aster's soul before he quickly squashed it. He hadn't meant to make his mother feel bad. "But your father and you boys really helped me. I still had you all to care for and it would not have been right for you to lose a sister and a mother. But it was heartbreaking and your father is right, you never really get over it."

"Why?" asked Sandy, trying to figure out how all of it tied together.

"When Jack was 4, his younger sister died rather suddenly," explained Aster, running his hand through his thick hair as a plan solidified in his mind. "I'm not sure he wants me telling you this because he is a rather private person and I know he hates for people to pity him, but I think you should know. So, when his sister died, his mother went into a depression, only she never got out. She ended up killing herself and Jack found her. His father moved him here after that, but his father was never the same after the loss of his only daughter and then wife. Jack says he's sick, I think it's with depression. You know what depression can be like. He's not the best father but Jack feels like he has to take care of him. He doesn't want him to end up like his mother."

"Oh my," said Melody when Aster had finished. "That's terrible. He found his mother after she did that? I can't even imagine. It's no wonder he can be so jumpy."

"That poor boy," agreed Sandy. "He's had a rough life, that's for sure, but you'd never guess it by talking to him."

"You've got that right," said Aster darkly, thinking of the question he had avoided fully answering. "He really likes our family, which, according to Cupcake, is a first. Cupcake said Jack has never warmed up to anyone so quickly."

"Well, it sound like he's never really interacted with a stable, loving home before," said Melody. "Oh, my heart just aches for him."

"I know darling," sighed Sandy, gathering his wife in his arms. "We'll figure something out."

Aster realized he had been dismissed and left the room as quietly as he could, wondering what his father had meant by his last comment and pondering if he had been smart to avoid directly answering the given question.

***Okay, as an apology for not updating yet again, how about this-I will post a second chapter tonight. Does that work?**

**Always-Ari**


	13. For Real Now

When Aster walked back into Jack's temporary room, he found that Cupcake had left for her own home and Nick and Jack were sitting on the ground playing cards. It was a worn deck of cards, used hundreds of times over by the boys as they grew up. The amazing thing was that they had never lost a single card from that deck, which was good because they never would have been able to replace the space themed back of the cards.

"Is your mother okay?" asked Jack the second he spotted the dark haired boy, his normally playful voice worried.

"She's fine," said Aster, a tight smile playing at his features as guilt knotted his stomach. "What game are you guys playing?"

"Nick is teaching me how to play poker," announced Jack with a goofy grin, showing Aster his cards in a very unprofessional way. "I'm terrible."

"I can see that. Your hand is awful. We used to have a poker game every week with our friends," said Aster, taking a seat in between his brother and friend and eying Jack's cards skeptically.

"That's what Nick told me. He wants to start up a game here with you, Cupcake, Sophie, Jamie, and me but he said I have to learn first or I won't be allowed to partake."

"Nick is picky like that."

"Is dinner ready?" asked Nick after he stuck his tongue out childishly at his brother, food the main thing on his mind, as usual.

"Let's go check if Melody needs help," said Jack, instantly abandoning the game and pulling the boys out of the room after him.

Melody and Sandy were still sitting on the couch, deep in discussion, their heads close together. Jack knocked on the wooden door frame, announcing that he was there so as not to over hear something they didn't want him to know.

"Jack!" gushed Melody, unable to contain herself. She rushed to the young boy and enveloped him in a warm, motherly hug.

"We were just wondering if you needed any help with dinner," explained Jack when Melody let him go.

Jack's emotions were conflicted by the hug. He wanted Melody to hug him like that again because it felt as though she actually cared but at the same time he wanted to get as far away from her as possible because only bad things came from parents. He didn't want to get attached but that was a battle he had already lost.

"Actually, we wanted to take you all out to eat, if that's okay," said Sandy, rising from the couch and approaching them.

"Sure," said Jack, taking an instinctual step back to stand between the protection of the much larger Aster and Nick.

"Excellent!"

They settled on going to the local Italian place a short drive away that Jack had introduced them to the week they moved in. Jack had spent years walking the surrounding area and found the most interesting hide outs that way, places off the beaten path that most people never knew existed. Melody and Sandy made a huge deal about it being Jack's birthday, embarrassing the poor teenager to no end when they insisted the waitress sing to him, but he secretly enjoyed it. When they got home, Melody made a cake while the boys distracted Jack with video games in the upstairs television room. Then, they sat him down in their formal dining room, and sang him the birthday song-the first one sung to him in years.

"Happy birthday to you!" sang the St. North's, who had surprisingly pleasant singing voices. "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Jack! Happy birthday to you!"

Jack blew out the 17 baby blue candles on his white frosted, red velvet cake and ate a large piece with the rest other four people in the house. He could not remember the last time he had enjoyed his birthday so much. Later that night, when he settled into the spare bed and thought back on his day, tears filled his eyes against his will.

"Jack?" came the soft voice of Aster from the door. "Are you still awake?"

"Yes," sniffed Jack, trying to hide the tears in his voice, not wanting to get caught crying like a little baby.

"What's wrong?" asked Aster, walking in, leaving the door cracked, and sitting on the bed with Jack, his former reason for being in the smaller boy's room so late forgotten.

"Nothing," said Jack, swiping at his eyes as he sat up. "Why are you here?"

"Nick was super tired and went to sleep but he wanted me to tell you that your birthday gift should be arriving tomorrow. Now, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"It's your family," hiccupped Jack, knowing Aster was about as stubborn as he was when it came to getting or giving information, his vain attempt to hold back tears failing.

In response Aster made a very un-Aster like gesture (something he seemed to be willing to do for this flighty boy alone) and put his arm around Jack's thin shoulders, pulling him in to lean against him like he would for a younger sibling. Jack did not hesitate like he had the last time, merely turned his face into Aster's soft shirt, falling into the only form of comfort he had received for years.

"Everyone is so nice," explained Jack through his leaking eyes. "Your mom, dad, brother, you, everyone. You have such an amazing family. I can't even remember the last time my father even mentioned my birthday and yet you guys take me out to dinner. It's just making me realize how abnormal my life must be….and what it must be like to have parents who care. I want that, Aster, I want to have that. I don't want to worry about my father, I don't want to put up with his abuse anymore, I just want to have someone like me enough to want to be with me on holidays. I want someone to like me enough to care about what I am doing, where I am, who I am with, how my grades are. I want someone to yell at me when I get in trouble at school, not when I wake up and do the dishes or make dinner. I want to care enough to stay."

Aster just pulled Jack closer, humming softly and rubbing his back with long soothing strokes, smoothing his soft, messy, white hair until he settled down and, eventually, fell asleep. When he was sure Jack was down for the count, Aster eased him back into his bed and crept out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him. Then he snuck down the stair and found his parents back on the couch, clearly talking about Jack and how they thought the day went for him.

"Hey mom, dad?" asked Aster, shifting his feet as he stood awkwardly in the doorframe in his oversized white t-shirt and baggy sweat pants.

"Yes, darling?" said Melody.

"What is it son?" asked Sandy, concern moving over his firm face.

"I'm ready to talk to you about Jack," said Aster, meeting their eyes. "For real this time."

***Hey! Me again! As promised that was the second chapter in one day. So yeah, this is my apology for not being good about updating because honestly, I have this entire story written out, I am just being super paranoid and uncertain in my writing because I want this to be a great story and I just don't know if it is yet.**

**Anywho, hope this find you well. Always-Ari**


	14. Surprise

The next morning Jack rose just as early as he normally did, quietly showering and brushing his teeth in the strange bathroom before slipping downstairs to the kitchen. There, he made breakfast just like he would if his father had been home and he had been at his own house. The routine comforted him and he ghosted about trying not to wake anyone as he went. While the house was fairly orderly, he found three empty cups in the living room that he collected and washed while bacon sizzled in the background on an iron frying pan. The St. North's house gave off a different vibe than Jack's own house, one that put him at ease instead of keeping him on edge.

"This is The Scarlet Letter, Here's Where the Red Fern Grows," sang Jack absently as he worked, his voice soft but pure. "This is what you ought to think, this is what you need to know. They tell us to be patient, in time we'll understand. But that still will not solve the problem that's at hand.

"And the world still spins Trying to make us give in. The storm is raging on through the night. And they kill our song. Every move we make is wrong. They want us to give up without a fight. And the world spins.

"'You're too young to get it.' That's what the always say. They don't seem to realize that they'll be gone someday. They need to let us stand alone, they have to let us choose. We're different from the rest of them but that's not big news.

"And the world still spins Trying to make us give in. The storm is raging on through the night.  
And they kill our song. Every move we make is wrong. They want us to give up without a fight. And the world spins.

"But we will be strong because that's what we choose. And we'll stand together or surely we'll lose.

"And the world still spins Trying to make us give in. The storm is raging on through the night. And they kill our song. Every move we make is wrong. They want us to give up without a fight. And the world spins.

"So here's The Scarlet Letter. Here's Where the Red Fern Grows..." his voice faded out, allowing the normal morning sounds of the kitchen to rush up and replace it.

"You have a beautiful voice," commented Sandy from the kitchen door, causing Jack to jump in surprise.

"Oh, um, thank you," said Jack, leaning back against the sink, away from Sandy, more than a bit confused as to how and why he would be commenting on Jack's voice when he couldn't hear anything.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," apologized Sandy with an easy smile. "I just was coming in to get something to eat and noticed you singing and I didn't want you to stop."

"Okay," said Jack, unsure of what else to do.

He had never been alone with Sandy before and it was making him very uneasy. He wanted so badly to like the unassuming man and to an extent Jack did did, but being alone with him was another thing entirely.

"If you sit down, I will make you a plate."

"Do you want any help?"

"No!" exclaimed Jack, a bit too quickly. "Its fine, I do this all the time. Just sit and I will bring you some food."

Sandy sat down, watching Jack's every move. It did not escape him how much more jumpy the boy was around him than with Melody or Aster and after what his son had told him last night, he understood why. As he competently flitted around the kitchen, his white hair bouncing and oversized shirt flowing in his wake, it baffled Sandy how anyone would want to cause such an innocent child harm. He could tell he was trying to relax around him, but he also knew it would be a long time before that happened.

"Here you go," said Jack, depositing a loaded plate in front of Sandy before hopping back out of the way. "Did you want some coffee as well?"

"No thank you," replied Sandy, trying to calm the teenagers nerves. "Are you going to have anything to eat?"

"I will, but I want to make sure that Melody, Aster, and Nick get something first."

"Oh, well Melody is talking with the boys right now, so they may be a while."

"Oh."

Sandy watched Jack's face carefully slide into a guarded mask as Jack made himself a small plate. Sandy didn't dare tell him what Melody was speaking to both boys about but he wondered what his reaction would be if he knew.

"So Jack," began Sandy, trying to diffuse the tension. "How did you sleep?"

"Very well, thank you," replied Jack politely, his light eyes hooded. "It's really too kind of you to let me stay here. I promise, I won't be any trouble."

"Not at all," laughed Sandy. "It's our pleasure. Melody and I are quite taken with you and I've never seen Aster warm up to anyone so quickly."

"He's a nice boy and Nick is just as kind. You've raised them well."

"How are they liking school?"

"As far as I can tell, they both really like it and are fitting in well."

"That's good. I was worried about moving them in the middle of the year, but it seems to be working out well."

Jack nodded and picked at his food, poking it and sliding it around the plate. The silence grew.

"Did you get anything nice for your birthday?" asked Sandy, casting around for subjects.

"My friend Cupcake gave me a new book," said Jack, his face breaking into a genuine smile. "And Aster gave me a really interesting journal."

"Is that all? Did your father or grandparents get you anything?"

"No," said Jack, his cheeks darkening slightly. "My grandparents are dead."

Sandy noticed how Jack steered away from the topic of his father. As he thought about it, Sandy realized Jack had always been strangely vague when it came to his father and home life in general. Until Aster had talked to him yesterday, he had no idea he ever had a sister, even. Jack would answer any question about his life or father with a quick, ready response that left the topic alone and soared quickly into another.

"Good morning!" greeted Melody, walking into the room with her sons behind her. "Jack dear, did you make breakfast?"

"Yes," said Jack, visibly relaxing as soon as he saw the others. "Thank you so much for letting me stay here, by the way. I really appreciate it."

"It's no problem at all, dear," said Melody brightly, kissing the top of his white head.

"Jack!" announced Nick with a grin. "I checked and your present arrived early this morning. Want to see it?"

"Yes," laughed Jack.

"Okay, close your eyes," said Nick, bouncing with excitement.

Jack stood up but raised his eyebrows slightly, unsure of how much he liked the idea of shutting his eyes and trusting someone to lead him around.

"Come on," said Aster softly, his cool tone comforting, taking Jack's smaller hands hands in his own large ones. "Shut your eyes, I'm going to lead you to your present."

Jack reluctantly allowed his lids to drop and let Aster guide him through the kitchen and out the back door, much to him confusion. The morning was brisk and light, a slight breeze tugging absently at his hair as if in greeting. The grass felt spongy and cool on his bare feet, causing him to chuckle a bit as the blades tickled his toes.

"That's good!" yelled Nick. "Open your eyes!"

Jack opened his eyes and laughed in delight.

"Oh my goodness!" he said, running over to Nick. "She's beautiful!"

Nick handed him the Australian shepherd puppy, a white, brown, and black mixed fur bundle of energy. He cuddled it and set it on the ground to play.

"Thank you, Nick," said Jack from the ground, looking up at the giant of a boy. "She's perfect!"

"I knew you'd like her!" claimed Nick, looking very proud of himself.

"What are you going to name her?" asked Aster, looking on with a smile as Jack played with his new puppy.

"Luna," said Jack without hesitation.

"Luna? Why that?"

"She looks like a Luna, don't you Luna?"

In response, the puppy, Luna, yipped, happily nipping at his fingers, causing Jack to snicker. For the moment, he was going to pretend that his father would let him keep Luna. For the moment, he was going to pretend that his father was never coming back and that everything was going to be alright. But only for that moment, because the next day, that moment would only be a happy memory to cling to as the storm that was his life picked up steam.

***This week has been too exhausting and it's only Wednesday. Seriously, I am pooped. I need to crawl into bed and sleep for a week but alas, I have work and writing and people and life to face. Oh well, I guess I shall sleep when I am dead.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Always-Ari**


	15. At School? Really?

Jack, Aster, Nick, Cupcake, Sophie, and Jamie all sat on the ground in front of Jack's locker eating their lunches and talking about their weekends. Jamie, his dark hair messy and brown eyes wide, sat listening intently to his friends interesting lives while trying to ignore his sister Sophie with her babbling.

"Nick gave you a puppy?" squealed Sophie when Jack told her why he was so anxious for school to end for once.

"Yup!" grinned Jack, showing off his dazzlingly white teeth. "Her name is Luna."

"Can I meet her?" asked Sophie, bouncing in excitement. "Oh please! Oh please! Oh pretty, pretty please!"

"The physical appearance of the please does not impact the answer," snapped Cupcake, her temper as short as ever.

"Ugly please?" tried Sophie one last time, causing Nick to laugh deeply, a belly laugh.

Aster followed Jack's gaze out the window of the front doors where he was staring with an unreadable look.

"What is he doing here?" said Jack quietly.

Aster didn't bother responding, just got up, pulled Jack to his feet roughly, and motioned for Nick and the others to follow him. As soon as they turned the corner, out of sight of the window, they broke into a run.

"What's going on?" panted Nick when they slid into a janitors closet.

"What is he doing here?" hissed Aster, locking the door and pulling out his phone.

"This can't be happening," said Jack, a hand running through his hair, messing up the locks in a way that somehow made his impish good looks even more attractive. "I have to go see what he wants."

"Jack, no," said Aster, handing Nick his phone and facing the shorter boy. "I forbid it. Look, whatever he wants, it's not good."

Screaming started. They heard people running around the halls, but the closet had not window to see what was happening.

"Students, teachers," came a voice over the intercom of the vice principal. "Please proceed to your lockdown locations. Remain calm, but this is not a drill."

"What's going on?" yelled Nick over the noise from outside their room.

"Hello?" came a deep, confused voice over the phone.

"Hello?" said Aster, snatching his phone back, knowing that what he said was being transcribed into text so his father could read it on the other end of the connection. "Dad! Something's going on at school. Jack's…Jack's father is here. I think he's finally cracked. He brought a gun. They've put the school on lockdown. Yes, yes, Nick and Jack are with me, we're safe right now. There are a three other people with us, some friends. Yes, I understand. Okay. I love you too."

He hung up and looked around the room. Cupcake was leaning against the wall, her face stricken but looking strangely like she was ready to kill. Sophie was sobbing quietly into Jamie's shoulder. Nick was looking as if he was still at lunch and unsure of why he was even in a supply closet, and Jack was sitting on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his knees, blue hood up, staring at Aster with eyes that swallowed his soul whole.

"Jack, it's not your fault," said Aster as if he could read Jack's mind, kneeling in front of him.

"Boy!" came the muffled scream of his father, causing Jack to jump.

Everyone froze, staring at the door in silence, willing the voice to go away. Aster crouched silently in front of Jack, blocking the door from his view. He could feel his friends trembling behind him as he stared, waiting for the door to blast open.

"Boy!" yelled his father again, this time a shot accompanying it. "That freaky boy told me you were going to report me! We both know I can't let that happen, so get out here and we can settle this, just you and me."

His footsteps faded but no one raised their voices above a whisper when they finally spoke.

"Who is that guy?" choked out Sophie still cowering into Jamie. "What does he want?"

"Who was he talking about?" demanded Aster, livid. "Who was the freaky boy he mentioned?"

"I didn't mean to tell him!" whispered Jamie, having the good grace to look ashamed. "Nick told me about your plans to get custody of Jack and I sort of made a comment on an internet forum about it, trying to see if that was even legal, and some guy started commenting on it, but I swear I didn't know he was a crazy person!"

"Who is he?" asked Sophie again, wringing her blonde hair nervously in her hands.

"He's Jack's father, you nitwit!" hissed Cupcake, smacking Jamie over the head. "Why are you so stupid, Jamie? Why on earth would you do something like that?"

"Wait, you were trying to get custody of me?" said Jack, his voice so soft that Aster, sitting next to him, barely heard it.

"Yes," said Aster, inwardly bellowing in fury but outwardly remaining calm so as to not startle Jack more than the poor boy already was. "My parents were suspicious and asked me about your home life and if your father abused you. I know I promised not to say anything, Jack, but he knocked you out on Saturday. I was worried and I didn't want to lie directly to them, so I told my parents what was going on. They've been looking into getting custody of you since. My mom talked to Nick and me about it yesterday and we both agreed that we wanted you away from your father, but we weren't supposed to tell anyone about it until my parents had more details. We wanted to avoid something this extreme."

"Are you mad?" asked Nick, shamefaced.

"No," sighed Jack, yet again messing up his hair as he thought the situation through. "I'm not mad. I'm-"

"Boy!" came a bellow over the intercom system, filling the halls and classroom. "I'm giving you one hour to give yourself up. If you don't, I start killing people, one for every minute you stay hidden. Your choice."

The intercom clicked off with a familiar, almost comical ding. The teens huddled in the closet, staring at each other, wondering what their next move would be.

"I have to go talk to him," said Jack at last, making a move to get around Aster to the door.

"No!" exclaimed Aster, holding him in a vice grip as he struggled to get out.

"He's going to kill people, Aster," snapped Jack. "Let me go. Please!"

"The cops are on their way now," reasoned Aster. "We have an hour to make a move, we don't have to do anything right now. I say we give the police a chance to handle this first."

"I can't let you go out there, Jack," said Cupcake, placing a broken desk in front of the door to act as a barricade.

"We'll figure something out, don't worry," assured Nick in an unusual display of calm.

"Why are you guys stopping him?" asked Jamie, his eyes wild and scared. "If he wants to give himself up, I say let him! There's no point in the rest of us dying because of him!"

"Shut up, you traitor!" sneered Cupcake, advancing on him, her dark hair flying, black boot clumping ominously. "Jack's not going anywhere. If anyone should go out there and face him, it should be you. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be in this mess! You just had to open your big mouth and ruin everything!"

"Guys, stop!" cried Sophie, sobbing again. "Just stop!"

Nick went and comforted Sophie while Cupcake continued to glare at Jamie as if daring him to make another move. Jack quit fighting Aster's grip on him and instead sunk back down on the ground next to him since Aster refused to loosen his hold in case Jack tried to escape again, trying to find a way out for everyone, wishing for the first time that the St. North's had never moved in next door so that they wouldn't be in danger. Aster merely tightened his grip in nonverbal reassurance, his watchful eyes never leaving the door.

"I won't let him touch you again," he whispered into the blue hood, so quietly Jack barely heard the promise.

***I get to see my twin brother soon! You have no idea how happy this makes me. I have a really close family (there are 6 of us kids) and my twin and I live in different towns right now so we don't get to see each other often, but soon I will get to see him and I just cannot wait! I'm so excited I'm wasting your time telling you about it when I should be telling you how much I appreciate your support and ideas and comments. **

**Anywho, I hope this finds you well. Always-Ari**


	16. Spy Movies

Periodically they could hear footsteps make their way past the door, echoing down the eerily silent hall, bouncing off the walls until they sounded more like clashing drums played by an inexperienced drummer than footsteps. Each time the teens would all tense up, waiting for the door to get broken down, waiting to be discovered.

"The SWAT team is emptying the school classroom by classroom now but it's slow going since they don't know where the shooter is," said Nick, reading quietly off of his phone from the news.

That's what they called Jack's father, the shooter. It was easier to pretend one of their own was not the target if they didn't name the threat.

"Dad said the police are working at securing each hall," added Aster, scanning a text from his father. "He told them we are hiding in a closet, so they are trying to locate us."

"Time's almost up, boy!" came a shout through the hall. "I know the police are involved now! You have to come out or I start with them."

Aster tightened his arm around Jack as the footsteps passed, both protecting and restraining the boy. Then, indescribably, as they faded, the footsteps paused before came closer once again. Sophie began to sob and Nick hugged her tightly, stroking her unnaturally blonde hair and muffling the noise with his shirt. Cupcake clamped her hand over Jamie's mouth in case he got it in his head to give up their position in hopes of saving himself. Aster moved Jack from his seat next to him and instead maneuvered him behind his back, making sure to keep on hand on Jack's arm, just to be sure he was still safely within reach. He doubted Jack's shaking would ever stop.

The doorknob jiggled.

"Kids?" came a soft, deep voice.

"Dad?" whispered Nick, taking a step towards the door.

"Nick?" said a deep voice like his father from the other side of the door.

"Nick, don't, it's a trick," whispered Jack, tugging him back.

"No, it's my dad," said Nick, trying to yank his arm away from Jack.

"No, Nick, trust me, please! Your dad is deaf, he wouldn't hear you."

The blonde haired boy ignored him and took a step to the door, reaching to unlock it.

"NO!" screamed Jack, tearing him back so forcefully that he tripped back and crashed down on top of the smaller one.

"Boy!" screamed Jack's dad, banging on the door. "I know you're in there! I heard your voice!"

Cupcake was cursing in the corner, using words even Aster had never used, her eyes scanning the room for another exit, any exit. She pointed. In the top corner of the ceiling was an air vent. It would be a tight squeeze, but it was their only option.

"Nuh-uh!" balked Nick as first Sophie and then Jamie were boosted into the small opening. "I don't do small spaces."

A gun fired in the hall as Cupcake squeezed her black clad body in the metal casing.

"It's not that small," said Nick changing his tune, hopping into his brothers hands and jumping for it.

"You next," whispered Aster, flinching as another shot sounded.

"No, you won't be able to make it up without me," said Jack. "Look, I'll boost you up, and then I'll jump from the broken desk. I'm lighter, I can make it."

The pride in Aster protested, insisting he let Jack go first but the realist in him knew Jack's way was the smartest and fastest, so he allowed him to take his weight as he shimmied in. He wedged himself along, following the track left in the dust by his friends. It was not at all like the spy movies. The walls were close and covered in grime and it was darker then he thought possible. Still, he hurried along until he felt hands on his feet. He chanced a glance back and saw Jack crawling along after him. Then he started to fall headlong out of a sudden opening.

"Whoa, cowboy," said Nick, catching his shoulders and lowering him without grace to the floor. They had found their way into another closet.

"So many closets in this place!" growled Cupcake, wiping dust off her normally impeccably black clothing.

"How on earth did we get here?" asked Jack, sticking his head out of the hole in the ceiling.

"Slide out," said Aster, motioning for him to fall into his and Nick's waiting arms.

"It's like a water park without water!" said Sophie with a giggle.

Jack pushed himself down and into his neighbor's open arms. Once on solid ground again, they stood silently to listen. Echoes of shots could be heard radiating from the air duct.

"Now might be the time to run for it," said Nick.

"I'm going!" said Jamie.

Before anyone could stop him, he was out and running screaming down the hall, slamming the door behind him. The shots stopped as his screams filled the air. Nick locked the door behind him, knowing the moment was lost.

"Hahahaha, out of the frying pan and into the fire!" laughed Sophie. "I want bacon!"

Suddenly, the closet door burst open, causing the teenagers to all scream. Aster forced Jack and Sophie back behind him as Nick did the same with Cupcake, the brothers forming a wall between their friends and the open door.

"Kids, come on," said a police officer, motioning them to follow his team and him. "It's okay, we're police officers, we're going to get you out of here, it's going to be alright."

They followed the police officers out, becoming instantly surrounded by them as the men in black formed a human shield. Soon, they were deposited outside where they were checked over for injuries and questioned. Jack told them that it was his father and he was deranged and in need of mental help.

"How old are you?" asked the officer in charge. "Do you have a way of getting a hold of your mother?"

"I'm 17," answered Jack, a hand running through his dust covered hair. "My mom's dead."

"He's staying with us," informed Aster, resting one of his large hands on his shoulder.

"Well son, that's all well and good, but I need his legal guardian or he has to go with social services," replied the officer tiredly. It had been a long day for him already.

"Aster! Nick!" yelled their parents, rushing up and embracing their sons.

"Are you kids alright?" asked Sandy, looking them over.

"Oh Jack!" cried Melody, hugging Jack as well. "I'm so happy you kids aren't hurt!"

"Dad, mom, they're saying they have to take Jack away!" said Nick, tugging on his father's sleeve and pointing at the officer in question.

"I can't release him to anyone but his legal guardian," restated the officer, rubbing his eyes.

"We're just waiting on the official papers," assured Sandy in his deep reassuring voice that was always a bit too loud. "However, since it is his father in question and he is of the age of consent, Jack can technically be released if he can prove that he will be looked after by legal adults. We are the legal adults in question."

"Whatever," said the officer. "I have other things I need to be doing than babysitting. I don't care. Take him."

Melody hugged Jack again as the officer walked away.

"I hope that's okay, darling," said Melody, stepping back. "We were going to ask you before anything became final. And Sandy was actually lying, we haven't been cleared for any papers yet."

"But, you really want to become my guardians?" asked Jack, leaning against Aster's side, unconsciously searching for some form of comfort and stability.

"If you'll let us, yes," said Melody with a shy smile.

"We'll talk about this another time," said Sandy, sensing that Jack was quickly becoming overwhelmed. "It's been an emotionally exhausting day, how about we all just go home?"

They nodded in agreement. They wound their way through the ocean of bodies, finally making it to Melody's grey sedan. Jack sat in the middle of the back seat between Nick and Aster, staring absently at his hands as they drove home. When they got to the St. North's house, Jack went to her room, took a shower, and changed into baggy sweats and a green hoodie, leaving his wet hair to dry in the wind. Not knowing what else to do and desperately needing to think, he went outside and climbed up to his tree house.

***So I just worked 23 hours in a row...and then edited this chapter for you. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy being busy, I just am tired. So now I shall sleep. Tomorrow is a very important day. It is my bestest friend's birthday. Growing up it was always my twin brother, my bestest friend, and me and we would run around causing havoc and mischief. Now that we're older he's my boyfriend and bestest friend at the same time and we still make mischief as much as possible. **

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Always-Ari**


	17. Who He Was

It was quiet when he emerged on the platform. He hadn't been in his tree house for a couple of days, the longest period of time he had been away since moving in. The south wall was poorly patched from years of wear and tear. As he had grown, his workmanship had improved, but that south wall was forever scarred from the beginning when he had just moved in to the house with his father.

_"Jack," said his father, speaking to him for the first time in the several hours it had taken them to drive to their new house. "I'm going to go find a grocery store. You start unpacking."_

_"Okay, daddy," said Jack. _

_He was young and small, his white hair cropped short but still managing to stick out at random, his cheeks naturally flushed. The large furniture was already in place in the new house and Jack, who had meticulously packed away each box and labeled them with the room they belonged in his messy scrawl, had an easy time unpacking the boxes. His room was larger than his bedroom at home and seemed empty even when it was fully unpacked. In his closet he discovered a crawlway in the back corner that lead to a secret room, dark, covered in faded pink wallpaper, with a small round window in the top wall out of his reach. A secret room- something he had always wanted and finally got, just not in the way he was expecting._

_After a few hours and his father not returning, Jack ventured outside to explore the back yard. There was no fence, which disappointed him because he would never be allowed to get a dog if there was no fence. A large tree in the yard looked inviting. As he meandered around, bare feet crinkling the rough dry grass, he found a long rope ladder dangling down, hidden from view of the door. Looking up, the tree appeared to tower over him, bending to squash him at a moments notice. Still never one to be daunted, Jack began to climb hand over hand and foot over foot rung by rickety rung making his way up. _

_It was nothing more than a platform, sturdy enough and made of rough wood but well constructed. Standing up there Jack could picture in his overactive mind the castle of a tree house he could build with his father. There would be stairs and rooms and he bet he could convince his dad to insulate it for him. After everything that had happened, it would be a welcome break from reality, something positive to put their attention and efforts into. The sound of a car pulling up sent him scrambling back down the ladder, excited to tell his father about his discovery._

_"Hi, daddy!" squeaked Jack, running up to greet his father, a huge grin plastered on his face. "Did you find a grocery store?"_

_"No, Jack, I didn't," said his father tiredly. It was one of the last times he would ever call his son by his name. "Did you do as I asked and unpack everything?"_

_"I did," said Jack proudly, walking him into the house and showing off his handy work._

_For years Jack had been organizing and cleaning house since his mom was sick so often, so he knew how things were supposed to be. Everything was in its place, just like it had been at their old house. He loved the way it had turned out and couldn't wait for his father to see as well._

_"What have you done?" said his father, freezing in the living room, his voice dangerously quiet._

_"I, I unpacked," said Jack, confused, pushing his hair out of his face for the first time, unaware of the habit he was forming. _

_The living room looked warm and inviting, pictures placed around the room, a light brown throw blanket tossed artfully over the chocolate colored leather sofa._

_"No!" screamed his father, causing Jack to jump back in freight. He had never yelled at him like that before. "I told you to get rid of those things! I never want to see those pictures again, don't you get that? It's bad enough having you around, I don't need to see them everywhere I walk as well. That's why we moved!"_

_"I'm sorry," said Jack, unsure of why his father was so upset. After all, he missed his sister and mother as well but he loved having their pictures around to remind him of what they looked like. "I'll just put them away."_

_"You do that," nodded his father, his sudden fit of anger seeming to have passed as quickly as it came. "I'm going to bed. Good night."_

_Jack shrugged to himself and went about removing all of the photos of his family, putting them back into their boxes and then hiding them away in the secret pink room. He found a light switch in there and turned it on. The first thing he did was hang up a black towel over the window, balancing precariously on an old dresser as he did. Then he hung the pictures up and arranged the frames around the room, creating his own hidden shrine of memories._

_"I don't get it," said Jack quietly to no one because no one was there anymore to listen, not even the moon because he had locked it's warm glow out with the black towel. "I don't understand why dad doesn't want to see the pictures."_

_His father's harsh words replayed in his mind over and over until he fell asleep there in the pink room, curled up on the floor, wishing they had never moved to the new house and knowing that his father would never want to build the tree house with him now._

"Are you okay?" asked Aster, joining Jack in his sanctuary. "I'm sorry if you want to be alone, I was just worried and needed to check on you. It makes me nervous, having you this close to where he lives and not having you within sight."

"You know, my father wasn't always like this," said Jack, still studying the south wall.

"I'm sure he wasn't," said Aster practically. "However, he's like this now, and that's what matters at the moment."

"He used to be kind."

"You used the past tense there, Jack," said Aster gently, knowing they were walking on fragile ground. "How long has it been since he was been kind to you?"

"That doesn't matter."

"How long?"

"Since we moved here, he has been different."

"Then you know what you should do. He's had his chance to change, he's had his own time, and you own him nothing. It's time for you to let him go because he is not your father any more. You have to let him go."

"It's not that simple. It's never that simple."

"No, it's incredibly simple. What I think you meant was that it's not that easy. It's not going to be easy, he's still the one who helped create you, he's all you've ever known in a father, but you deserve better than what he has become."

Jack sighed, the fight visibly leaving his body as his shoulders slumped because deep in his soul he knew that Aster was right but that didn't make it hurt less.

***I have been asked two questions that I will now answer, the first having to do with the story and the second not. **

**First off-why has no one at school commented on Jack's white hair? The answer- No one has commented because it is a school full of artsy kids who have a plethora of strange quirks such as dyed hair, bright patterns, etc. No one is bothered by the hair color ad quite frankly no one cares enough to mention it.**

**Second question-Are my twin and I identical or fraternal? Answer- We are fraternal. He is a boy and I am a girl. Philip and Ariana (or just Phil and Ari as most people call us).**

**Anywho, time for bed! I have to be up in less than 2 hours but I wanted to get this chapter out first. Hope you enjoyed it! Always-Ari**


	18. To be so Weak

"What are you doing?" asked Nick, poking his head into Jack's room and finding him sitting at his desk, the lamp on but the overhead light off.

"Writing," said Jack with a grin, looking up from his paper.

"Writing what?"

"A poem."

"You write poetry?"

"Sometimes, yes," said Jack. "I like to write songs-before I moved my friend and I talked about starting a band and we started writing songs- but right now I'm trying my hand at free verse."

"Will you read it to me?" asked Nick.

"What's going on?" asked Aster, appearing by Nick, crowding the door frame.

"Jack is going to read me a poem he wrote," said Nick, squeezing past his brother into Jack's room and plopping down on his made bed.

"Oh you are really?" said Aster, joining his brother on the bed and patting the space between them, signaling Jack to join.

The school had been shut down for the week since the shooter incident the day before, leaving the teenagers with time on their hands.

"Um, sure, I guess I'll read it," said Jack, settling in between them. "Ahem.

"Begin with a soft dynamic, _adagio pianissimo,_ the quiet, twinkling chords play," recited Jack.

"Slowly in a lofty octave, floating above the other scales, joined

by the bedside sound of the violin.

"Mile 15, the rain turns to a gully washer and the mudded grass

forms an unstable platform and she hits the ground.

The ground hits back with more force. When asked this time,

the fall would not be a lie.

"A time signature alters and flows into the second progression.

an _accelerando_ marks the quickened pace as the notes descend

into a deeper scale and minor key.

"Frozen, her eyes glued to her plaid covered

lap, knees, scabbed from her last trip in the rain, peak

out timidly from the skirt before opal socks race

up her runners claves, hiding purple and green spotted shins.

If she ever removed the faded black hoodie, her arms would show

fingerprints like a dusted crime scene.

"The brass makes its booming entrance as percussion treads

through with its somber tone. Quick chords clash within a cacophony

of precise, intentional discord.

"Her heart was broken, each piece rattling

around in her chest with every shallow breath.

Several slivers bounce off her bruised ribs while one bit,

the right ventricle, lodges itself in her throat,

a reminder with every hollow inhalation

that pushed air, but not food, past the dislocated valve,

that it was just her lungs moving now, no heart, no blood,

lungs moving independently of the rest. She never

thought he'd do it, he never thought she'd be so weak.

"A quick _crescendo_ ushers in the _fortissimo_. Cymbals sound, then silence.

Flutes offer their serene berceuse, the woodwinds mesh to form

A lullaby."

The silence after his reading was thick with anticipation. It did not make sense, but he desired their approval so much it hurt.

"Mind you it's just a rough draft," said Jack when the silence became too much.

"And you just wrote that?" said Nick slowly.

"Yes," replied Jack, his voice so quiet he barely heard it.

"You have an incredibly understanding of music."

"I think it was beautiful," said Aster in his comforting, understanding tone. "Sad, but beautiful."

"Thank you," said Jack.

After that awkward moment, they began talking more freely about what the missed days would mean for their semester.

"Oh, I'm glad you all are together," said Sandy, entering Jack's room and finding his sons and Jack chatting on the guest bed. "I wanted to update you on everything."

"Okay," said Nick, moving so that he was sitting more comfortably on the ground, leaning against the bed.

"Well, luckily, no one was injured during yesterdays….events," began Sandy slowly as though he was thinking about how to form each word before he spoke it. "They found Jamie, I know you boys asked about him. He went out different door which is why we didn't know anything about him to begin with. Also, they arrested Pitch Frost, Jack's father, for attempted murder and several other accounts. That should be enough to get him tossed in jail, but if it's not, Jack, would you be willing to press charges for abuse and neglect?"

Jack stiffened for a moment. Beck's hand snaked up to rest reassuringly on his shoulder, squeezing softly, bringing him back to the situation at hand.

"Yes," whispered Jack, nodding to be sure that Sandy understood him.

"Okay," said Sandy, inclining his head in thanks. "Hopefully it won't come to that. Also, we have been given temporary emergency custody of Jack until the trial has happened. You kids will not be involved in that ordeal, thank goodness. After the trial, well, it depends on how the trial goes. If he goes to jail, we can be granted full custody, if not, we have to push the abuse and neglect case and see where that leads."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," said Nick soundly, confident that everything would work out in their favor. "It shouldn't be too difficult to get permanent custody of Jack since you two already adopted Aster, so you have that going for you."

Sandy smiled at his son, who was so blissfully unaware of how much work was going in to getting Jack away from his father, fondly.

"I need to go speak with your mother, but Jack, are you sure you're okay with all of this?"

"Yes, I am if you are," said Jack.

"We'd like nothing more than to have you out of that environment and with us for good," said Sandy. "Okay, well, I will see you all later."

Sandy got up and walked out of the room.

"I'll be right back," said Jack, quickly hopping off of his bed and rushing out into the hallway.

Sandy was almost to the stairs.

"Sandy, wait!" said Jack, hurrying to him and tapping his shoulder.

"Yes son?" said Sandy, turning to face the young boy.

It was the first time Jack had spoken to him directly without being prompted and the first time he had volunteered to be on his own with the older man.

"I'm sorry," said Jack, shifting his bare feet on the carpet. "I'm sorry that I'm so impossible around you. At least now you know why I am the way I am but I'm sorry. It's not personal, I swear, I don't like being around most adults and I want to thank you for trying to get me to relax."

"Of course," said Sandy, his heart breaking all over again for this damaged boy who still put others before himself. "There's no rush. Take your time, I can wait."

Jack gave him a hug before running back to his room without another word. It lasted for less than a second but it was a step forward, a step towards healing, and Sandy would take what he could get, because that step gave him hope that they had not acted too late.

***Another answer to a question-I was asked if the school scene was the big build up because I was a bit disappointing it so. The answer to that is no. I began this story with a specific scene in mind as and that is where this is all headed. We have not reached it yet but we will soon...I think.**

**I love questions! They help me grow as a writer. Always-Ari**


	19. Healing Him

The semester was just called at the end of that week. The teachers were in disarray and knew it was smarter to just let the students start an early winter holiday than try to teach them anything after the crazy week they'd had.

"Do you want to go gather the rest of your things from next door?" asked Melody at breakfast Saturday morning.

Jack had gotten into the habit of making everyone breakfast every morning, something Melody and Sandy insisted he did not need to do and Nick and Aster demanded he continue with. In truth, cooking was one of the few things that remained constant in his life throughout the years so he wanted to continue cooking when he could. It gave him a sense of normality and he was still on edge, waiting for word of what was going to happen to his father. So, Saturday morning, he'd risen early and made scrambled eggs with sautéed mushrooms and bacon bits and French Toast because Sandy and Nick both had a sweet tooth.

"Are you sure?" said Jack, looking up from his place at the stove.

"Of course, darling," smiled Melody. "Why not?"

"I think Jack is making sure you want this," interpreted Aster, polishing off his plate across from his mother. "He's giving you one last chance to back out. By leaving his things next door, he gives you the opportunity to change your mind. Jack doesn't want to believe that it's actually happening until he knows his father is out of the picture for good."

Melody gave her son an appraising look while Jack just stuck his tongue out at him.

"Well, we aren't going to change our minds," said Melody firmly. "So if you want to bring all of your stuff over, you may, but if you want to wait, you can do that as well. Nothing is ever going to change our minds, though."

"Jack wants to bring his stuff over," said Aster, pushing back from the table and stretching. "I'll help, I've got nothing better to do."

With that, he put his plate in the sink and dragged Jack out the door and to his house next door. Nick was still fast asleep after staying up late working on an invention. Aster used to sleep late like his brother, but ever since moving in next to Jack, he had started rising early, first to make sure he was okay when he lived with her father, then to keep him company in general. He found he enjoyed the boys company and had come to think of him as a younger brother even though he was just a few months younger, perhaps it was because Jack had no idea how to react to love and positive interaction or perhaps it was because Jack acted so young, almost as a mask.

"I don't really need your help," said Jack as he walked up to his bedroom. "I already have most of my things over at your house."

"You can't seriously have all of your clothes at my house by now," laughed Beck pushing his dark hair out of his eyes.

"Well, I do," said Jack, scuffing his pale toes on the tan carpet. "I don't have a lot of clothes."

"Why not?" asked Aster, genuinely curious. "Do you hate shopping?"

"No," said Jack, opening a worn trunk from under his bed. "I actually enjoy grocery shopping. I just never have the money to get new clothes. It was always a choice between getting groceries or paying bills and clothes, so I almost always picked food and bills. I was in charge of money because my father was poor at managing it."

"Oh."

When Jack so casually explained another aspect of his life that revealed just how poor his living conditions had been for years, talking as if every teenage boy had to decide between starving and being clothed, Aster saw how lucky he had been to have two parents who loved him more than anything. To Jack, it was such a foreign concept that he never considered why anyone would want to help him out. It startled Aster to see how little Jack thought of himself.

"Well, what do you want to bring with you?" asked Aster, trying to move past the awkwardness of the moment.

"Do you think your parents would mind if I brought my family photos?" asked Jack, nervously swinging his hands at his hips.

"I think they would love it," said Aster with an encouraging smile. "Where are they? I've only ever seen that one picture of your sister."

"Oh, they are in the secret room!" said Jack, a snarky smirk on his lips. "I told you about that room when you came over before."

"Nick and I couldn't find it."

"It's here!"

Jack opened his empty closet and slide aside the small bookshelf in the back stacked full of mystery novels, revealing an even smaller door. Aster followed him on hands and knees into a faded pink room, lit by soft white lamps. The surroundings captured his attention for only an instant before he took in the shrine Jack had built. There was not an obnoxious amount of pictures but over the years more things had been added, like perfect school papers, a small school newspaper article highlighting Jack's achievements in a local art contest, and mounds of notebooks, hand written, all, by the looks of it, by Jack.

"What are all the books about?" asked Aster, gesturing at one of the piles.

"Oh, that stack is my stack of personal journals," explained Jack. "I have kept a journal for as long as I could write, you know, so I never forget who I used to be and so I remember how I became who I am now. I don't want to look back on my life and not know what happened and if I ever get to the point where I'm not the type of person I want to be I want to be able to look back and see how I got there so I can change. That other stack is a stack of different stories I've written, and that last stack is all of the songs, music, and poetry I've done."

"Okay then," said Aster, a bit in awe.

"I've had a lot of time to myself," shrugged Jack as if that explained it all.

"Well, let's get all these things out of here."

They got everything moved out of the pink room and into the trunk which Aster helped Jack haul back to his house. Nick was still not awake and Melody was anxious to help Jack get settled in. In her mind, Melody felt like everything would be better when Jack was moved in for good.

"Is this everything?" asked Melody, shocked by the lack of belongings they brought over.

"Yes," said Jack, a bit embarrassed.

It was one thing to admit to the boy who had quickly become his best friend and like an older brother that he had little in the way of belongings and another entirely to admit it to the woman he so desperately wanted to like him.

"Okay," said Melody. "Well, may I help you unpack your trunk, then, since the rest of your things are already settled?"

"No!" exclaimed Jack, shocking himself as well as Melody. "I just mean, I'm sure you have other things you would rather be doing."

"Nonsense!" laughed Melody.

Before Jack could protest again, Melody had the lid of his trunk swinging open, revealing the notebooks and, more importantly, the pictures, to the room beyond. The effect it had on Jack was instantaneous. The blood drained from his prominent cheeks, he began to tremble uncontrollably, and his light eyes grew wide with anxiety.

"Mom, I need you to give Jack and me a moment, okay?" said Aster, stepping up to physically shield the boy from his mothers gaze. "I'll get you when we're done, but I really need to talk to him alone first."

"Okay," agreed Melody, leaving the room as she realized just how out of her league she was with this new child she had taken in.

Melody found her husband in his study, reading some small print papers illuminated by his desk lamp in his high backed red leather swivel chair.

"Sweetheart," said Melody, perching on the edge of the desk, her slim hand settling on the paper in his line of sight, signing the words as she spoke. "Do you think we might have bitten off more than we can chew by taking Jack in?"

"What do you mean?" asked Sandy, setting aside his reading to study his wife. "Are you saying you don't want him to live with us after all?"

"Not at all," assured Melody. "It's just that, when we adopted Grace, we knew she had medical issues and with me being a doctor, we knew we could handle it. Jack is different. He is not physically ill and different things send him into panic mode. Just now, for instance, when I was helping him unpack, he began to have a panic attack when I opened a trunk full of old pictures of his family."

"Well, is he okay now?" asked Sandy in alarm.

"I don't know, Aster is with him," said Melody, a trace of pride seeping into her worried tone for how her son was acting so mature. "He seems to be the only one Jack really trusts and he pays such attention to him. Have you noticed that?"

"I have. I' really glad Aster has Jack. I have been very concerned about him ever since Grace's death because he just seems so closed off and hostile towards the world, as if he is afraid of feeling pain again. I can't say that I blame him, but I was worried that he would never start to move beyond that. And then he met Jack and I know for a fact that he loves that boy as if he really was his little brother. Jack has no idea how indebted we are to him for getting Aster to open up again."

"They may be the only ones able to get through to each other," said Melody softly.

"Give them both time," Sandy told his wife, kissing her hands. "They will get better and the only thing we can do for them is be patient and let them heal on their own time."

***A little more family fluffiness before getting down to business...which was a bit of a teaser, but whatever, you had to know I wasn't done with the drama yet. **

**Thank you so much for sticking with the story as I try my hand at a type of writing that is totally out of my normal comfort zone. It's...getting to being done. Eventually. Not yet though. Always-Ari**


	20. Better than This

Upstairs, oblivious to the fact that they were being talked about, Aster knelt in front of Jack as he sat on his bed, trying to get the younger boy to take deep breaths and figure out what was wrong.

"Jack, you're okay, you're safe," said Aster softly. "Come on, Jack, you've got to calm down."

He pushed Jack's soft, thick, messy white hair out of his eyes and stroked cupped his ruddy cheeks, forcing Jack to look at him. That seemed to snap him out of wherever his mind was a bit, his eyes shifting frantically from Aster to the rest of the room and back to Aster.

"I'm sorry," said Jack, still shaking. "I'm sorry."

"Want to tell me what happened?" asked Aster, moving to sit next to him on the bed.

Jack leaned against him, resting his head on Aster's broad shoulder. He missed the surprised look the dark haired boy gave him because of this action, but the expression quickly slid into a small smile as he put his arm around Jack companionably and brought him close.

"I know you said it would be okay with your parents if I brought my photos," said Jack softly, his voice trembling in time with his body. "I just wasn't ready to risk them getting mad."

"Why would they get mad?" asked Aster with a gentle tone he seemed to reserve just for him, one the rest of the world hadn't heard since Grace was alive. "They're just pictures of your family."

"My father….he wasn't fond of them. That's how it all started, did you know that? When we moved into that house, I unpacked everything, and when he saw the pictures everywhere, he got really angry and started yelling, so I hid them away."

"This had been going on that long?"

"It was only yelling when it started. He would fly into fits of rage and scream because of little things. Then he began throwing things, not always at me, sometimes throwing things just to watch them smash. He started drinking to try and stop the fits. He didn't want to hurt me, the pain was just so bad. I could tell, I could see it in his eyes when it was over that he was sorry but he didn't know how to apologize. So he tried drinking to numb the pain, to forget the hurt, but one night he got very drunk and he…..he woke me up in my room….and….I started sleeping in the hidden pink room after that, well, until I finished the tree house, then I slept there. I liked being outside where I knew he couldn't reach me. In the pink room, there was always the risk that he would find me and then he would be really mad to see that I had kept all of the pictures. He quit drinking after a year because his work threatened to fire and send him to rehab if he didn't stop. That's when the hitting began."

"Jack, why didn't you tell anyone?"

"At first, I thought he would get better. By the time things got really terrible, no one at school wanted anything to do with me. People had found out about my mother, I don't know how, but kids treated me like a disease and parents didn't want their children hanging out with a boy who may have killed his own mother, so no one would listen."

"How did you become friends with Cupcake, then?" asked Aster, curious beyond belief and taking advantage of Jack's out of character willingness to open up.

"Cupcake was really popular in elementary school. She was sweet and pretty and the first girl to really hit puberty, so she always had the attention of any boy she wanted. Well, when we were 13, Cupcake's parents went through a nasty divorce. She was having a rough time at home and all of her friends were so fake that they either didn't notice or just didn't care. At any rate, Cupcake became the way she is now and one day she was picking on me after school. She had picked on me before the divorce, that was what all the cool kids did. I was small for my age, quiet, with white hair and what kid has white hair?

"Anyway, I think she was looking for a reason not to go home because she followed me all the way to my house, teasing me the entire time. Well, my dad was home and heard us approaching. I pushed her into the bushes under the kitchen window before he saw her and ran inside. I guess she saw him hit me because later that afternoon, when I went outside to go to my tree house, she was still there, waiting for me. She followed me up and said she was sorry for teasing me. We became friends after that of sorts. She's really not mean at all, she just is afraid of getting hurt."

"Oh."

"But what about you, Aster?" asked Jack.

They both shifted so they were more comfortably leaning against the headboard.

"What about me?" said Aster, surprised by the question.

"Well, why are you friends with me? You keep everyone at arms length-no, don't deny it, we both know I'm right-so why bring me in to your world that you try so hard to keep everyone else out of?"

"You were different from the start," explained Aster, looking deep into his own reasoning to explain it to Jack. "You were the first person to not throw themself at me to be my friend, as arrogant as that sounds. In fact, you barely seemed to notice me, so I was curious about you. I knew you were hiding something, I just didn't know what. So, for the first time in a long time, I started paying attention to someone other than myself. Man, this really makes me sound full of myself and I'm not, I swear, I just shut everyone out after Grace died.

"When I figured out what was going on, I got angry, but I didn't know why. I had only known you for a few days at that point, so I didn't understand why I was so bothered by the idea of someone hurting you. But it bothered me, so I had to do something about it."

"That doesn't explain why you are my friend."

"I'm getting there. After I found out about your father, I wanted to get to know you better. It made no sense to me how you could have such an awful home life but still be nice to everyone. You were the first person I met who was like me. You said that I keep everyone at arms length, well you keep everyone at an arena's length. You never pushed me to open up to you, to do anything, and you never expected anything in return. That made me like you and want to be your friend, because you wanted to get to know me as a person but you weren't going to force me to open up if I didn't want to open up. That's why I wanted you as my friend. I care about you. So far, you have been handed the short straw in life and I want to protect you from any more short straws because you deserve better."

Jack snuggled into his arms in response like a little kid, drawing strength from his warm embrace to stop the shudders that still wracked his small frame and relax in his grip, believing for the first time in his life that he did actually deserve better than what he'd always been given.

***More fluff...I am not good at writing fluff. Time for drama! Always-Ari**


	21. Street Life

Feet pounded the sidewalk as he jogged through the city. His white hair flew back, ruffling in the wind, jumping with his movements. The sun was setting and the city was filling up with more of the unsavory characters. Melody and Sandy had flown to Colorado for the weekend because Melody's mother had become sick and Sandy did not want to leave his wife's side at such a time. He knew that hospitals were still difficult for her to handle and he would not let her face it alone until he was sure she would be okay. That left Aster, Nick, and Jack home alone for a few days, but since they were all old enough to know better than to burn down the house and because Sandy's brother lived an hour away in case of an emergency, they had not insisted the kids go with them.

Jack had missed running but the crowds in the city were getting thicker and as he turned to go back to the house he was forced to a walk. The air grew colder and began chilling the sweat on his skin and people were starting to notice him, so he pulled his dark blue colored hood over his head and stuck his hands deep into the front pocket. No one bothered him and he kept his eyes from making contact with anyone else.

"Jack?" came a loud, obnoxious voice from five feet in front of him.

Jack looked at Danny, his old crushes boyfriend. A year ago, Jack had asked out Emily but was turned down. Danny had quickly swooped in on a dare and Emily had agreed. Danny took pride in the fact that he could get a girl he didn't care about while Jack could get no one and took every opportunity to make sure Jack remembered. It enraged Jack that Danny had cheated on Emily multiple times and when Jack told Emily she did little more than yell at Danny, but they did not see much of each other, going to different schools and all, but the bitter resentment never died off.

"Jackson!" slurred Danny, slinging an arm around Jack's slim shoulders before he could step away as Danny's friends laughed.

He smelled bitterly of alcohol and smoke. Jack froze, wishing he had not run so far into the city, wishing he had brought a running partner, wishing the entire situation away, because nothing good ever comes from a drunken, bitter boy and the undersized boy who wronged him.

"How are you, Jacky boy?" asked Danny, trying to get Jack to fall in step with him while Jack dragged his feet, scraping his running shoes against the pavement.

"I'm fine, Danny," said Jack quietly. "But I have to go, so I will see you later."

He tried to turn out of Danny's hold only to find himself blocked in by one of Danny's large, football playing friends. Inwardly, Jack groaned, cursing his small stature.

"Stay with us, Jack-a-roo," said Danny, the most chatty of the group.

"Okay," agreed Jack slowly, a plan forming in his sprinting mind. "But can I borrow someone's phone? I will have to call Sophie and tell her I'm going to be late."

"Ah, don't tell me you're still hanging out with that freak," said Danny, extracting his arm, being sure to rake his nails against Jack's neck, causing him to shudder.

The sun had fully set by this point. Jack snatched Danny's phone and began dialing.

"Hello?" answered Aster, confused at the unknown number.

"Hey!" said Jack, his voice a forced chipper with an underlying of fear.

"Jack, what's going on?" said Aster. "Where are you? Who's phone are you calling on."

"Oh, Danny, you know Danny, right?" said Jack, still keeping his voice upbeat so Danny wouldn't know he was scared. "Well, I was out running down 5th and Main and Danny and his friends found me. They want me to hang out with them for a while, so I just wanted to tell you I would be late."

"Do you want to hang out with Danny?" asked Aster, unaware of Danny's problems with Jack.

Jack could tell Aster was getting his keys regardless, heard the scrape of the kitchen table chair as he got up.

"No," said Jack, dropping the act.

Danny snatched his phone back before he could say anything else.

"Now, Jacky," said Danny, waggling his fat finger in his face. "You weren't trying to find a way out of going out with us, were you?"

"I have to go," said Jack, ducking through the gap between the boys.

One of them snagged his wrist, yanking it painfully, causing him to yelp and the boys to laugh. He kicked the boy in an unmentionable place and ran the opposite way as fast as he could. He could hear them chasing after him, shoving people out of their way in their rush to catch him. Jack had been running too long but adrenaline surged through his limbs worn, lending him strength to continue on until he reached the street he had told Aster he was on. There it was, the corner he needed, the signs glowing in the street lights and headlights of cars.

"Hey there handsome," said a completely unfamiliar voice as a matching arm pulled Jack into the shadows of a deep doorway and covering his mouth.

The hand smelled worse than Danny had. Jack tried to scream, not believing his bad luck. If he got out of it, he swore he would never go running in the city again.

"Don't be like that, boy," hissed the voice. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I just want to get to know you better, you could be great fun for the boys."

Stealing himself, Jack did the last thing he could think of and licked the filth-ridden palm of the man's hand. It was not harmful, just a bizarre sensation that caused the man to let go so Jack could let out a piercing scream that sliced through the city smog to echo off the surrounding buildings. The man shoved Jack back farther into the shadows just as Danny and his bumbling gang found them.

"Hey man, that's ours!" said Danny.

Despite the entire situation, Jack felt indignation rise up in his chest at being referred to as an object.

"Finders keepers, losers!" said the man triumphantly.

A truck jumped the curb, lighting them up with its headlights like the sun, forcing the boys to scatter while Jack jumped toward it, not caring who it was, as long as it was not the men on the street with him. The passenger door flew open and he scrambled in, barely registering that it was Aster driving, his face more furious than he had ever seen it. Without a word, Aster backed into traffic, causing plenty of horns and screeches and words no child should hear, but he drove away.

"Are you okay?" asked Aster, his voice tight, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

"Thank you for coming," said Jack at the same time.

"Jack, did they hurt you at all?" asked Aster.

"Just scared me," admitted Jack. "I'm okay."

"No more running in the city?"

"No more running in the city."

At the next stoplight Jack slid into the middle seat, eyeing the passenger door as if it was going to spring open and let his would be attackers in. Aster, seeing the movement, hit the lock button and pulled Jack's face to face his so he could read it. There, he saw the barely contained terror and he kicked himself. He had just told Jack he would protect him from the bad things and already he had failed. He was about to apologize when Jack threw his arms around Aster's waist in an uncharacteristic display emotion and buried his head in the boy he had come to view as an older brother's chest. Aster realized then that the best he could do for Jack was get him home and distract him from the most recent horror in his life.

_He really does have the worst luck_, Aster thought, pulling forward at a much more reasonable pace as the light turned green, driving a bit awkward with a young boy who refused to let go of him making his movements lack their usual grace. _I should change that._

***Ever gotten heat stroke? Don't try it.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Always-Ari**


	22. Trees

It was late that night, Nick and Aster had already fallen asleep that Jack ventured down into the living room. Unable to sleep after his stressful night-running normally relaxed him and put him at ease but this time it did the opposite- Jack curled up on an overstuffed couch with a book and began reading by the light of a lamp that looked like a water lily. It was an adventure book, not one of the poorly written teen romance novels that seemed to be so popular with others his age-whether for the romance or the brief and disjointed action scenes, Jack didn't know. The worn pages smelled of ink and coffee, no longer stiff but leathery and soft.

Somewhere between page 138 and 139, his eyes drifted shut at last against his will. It was almost five in the morning by the time sleep claimed him completely, sending him into a deep and restful world where nothing bad ever seemed to happen, no dreams to haunt him, where everything was still and perfect.

Nick walked down at 6 am to pick up his father from the airport. Melody had sent Sandy back home because she was unable to sleep when her children were not supervised. After a full day at the hospital with no terrible incidents, Sandy felt he could get back to his children but only after making Melody promise to call him every day. Yawning and stretching, Nick meandered past the living room, pausing when he saw the lamp on. He went over to shut it off and spotted Jack asleep on the couch. Shaking his head, Nick smiled slightly and pulled a light royal purple blanket off of the back of an armchair and pulled it over the sleeping boy. He placed the book that had fallen to the ground on the coffee table then he turned out the light and left, grabbing his keys and walking out into the predawn gloom.

_Hey man! FYI, Jack is asleep on the couch. I'm going to pick up dad._ Nick sent the text to Aster and drove off.

Blearily, Aster read the message, the text sound having woken him up when it went off. He rolled over and stumbled out of bed, walking down the stairs while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Just as Nick had said, Aster found Jack fast asleep on the couch. He wasn't sure why he felt like he had to be down there, he just knew that if Jack had fallen asleep on the couch he probably had not been able to sleep all night and Aster certainly did not want him to wake up alone. He settled in on the other couch across from Jack, turning on the television and falling asleep to an infomercial about a new magical work out.

It was almost ten by the time Jack opened his eyes. The room was deceptively dark with its curtains pulled over the windows to stop sunlight from entering. Aster was snoring softly on the other couch, causing Jack to laugh softly.

"Oh, hey Jack!" whispered Nick, peeking in from the doorway.

"Hey," said Jack, joining him in the hall so they wouldn't wake the sleeping boy.

"Rough night?" joked Nick, walking to the kitchen with him.

"Little bit," said Jack, thinking back over the events of the night that Nick was not aware of.

Jack did not want to ruin Nick's innocent world with his own poor luck, so there were parts of his life that Nick was kept out of. Jack wanted to trust Nick but he could not bring himself to ruin Nick because that would be like telling a little kid that there was no Santa and while there were a lot of things Jack could face, that look of betrayal and hurt was not something Jack could deal with.

"Hello, Luna," said Jack as his puppy greeted him enthusiastically. "You are such a good girl. And so pretty. Look at you."

He got down and cuddled the puppy, laughing as she licked his face and nipped at his hands playfully.

"So how has your morning been?" asked Jack, still playing on the ground with the Australian Sheppard puppy.

"Busy," said Nick. "I picked my dad up from the airport and we got breakfast. Then I did a bit of Christmas shopping."

"Oh, Christmas is coming up," exclaimed Jack.

"You can't really be surprised, it's in just over a week."

Jack's mind was already off in another world, trying to figure out what to give these people. He could not remember the last time he really celebrated Christmas. Every year he gave Cupcake a small gift but that was it, so he had no idea where to even start.

"Earth to Jack," said Nick, waving his hand in front of Jack's face.

"What?"

"I asked you what you normally did for Christmas."

"Oh, you know, stuff."

"Let me guess," yawned Aster, walking in and pouring himself a cup of coffee. "You don't do anything for Christmas."

"Not really, no," admitted Jack.

"Then let's go get a Christmas tree," said Nick, excited at the idea. "Christmas is the best holiday ever!"

"Let me shower first," said Jack.

He flew up the stairs and quickly jumped in the shower, singing half remembered words to various holiday songs. After he was clean and dressed, Jack pulled on a light blue hoodie and walked into the hallway, a hand running through his damp hair.

"How are you?" asked Aster, emerging from his room wearing dark wash jeans, a grey shirt, and black leather jacket.

"I'm fine, you?" asked Jack, tugging on the strings of his hoodie to even them out.

"I'm good. But really, about last night-"

"Can we please just pretend it never happened?" asked Jack, looking up imploringly with his big blue eyes.

"You can't just pretend everything in life is fine."

"I know it's not fine," said Jack quietly. "But I want to enjoy today. We can talk about it tonight if you want, but right now, I just want to pick out a tree and be normal do holiday stuff and be normal."

"Okay," nodded Aster. "By the way, I got you this."

He handed him a cell phone.

"Why?" asked Jack, trying to understand why he was holding a cell phone in his hand.

"Because you shouldn't have to call me from your attacker's phone," said Aster snarkily. "So think of it as more of a present for me than anything else."

"Thank you," said Jack simply, putting the phone in his back pocket.

"Are you guys ready yet?" yelled Nick from the kitchen. "Dad and I want to go before all of the good trees are gone! And dad wants to mess with the sales people by only signing. Come on, it's going to be epic."

"Coming!" replied Aster.

Jack gave Aster a hug that lasted for perhaps a second and a half before running down the stairs, excited about his first Christmas tree hunt in years.

***Not thrilled about this chapter but it's not the worst I've ever written. Always-Ari**


	23. The Piper of Trees

They drove for almost forty-five minutes, Jack in the backseat with Aster, the older one trying to explain what a tree hunt was to Jack. Nick sat in the front singing Christmas songs while his father drove counting his blessing that he couldn't hear Nick's off tune voice.

"But, if it's a tree it doesn't really put up much fight, so why hunt it at all?" asked Jack, his eyes dancing with suppressed laughter.

"It's only called a hunt," said Aster for the fifth time, exasperation leaking into his voice. "We aren't actually hunting the tree, we're looking through a field of trees to find the perfect one and then we're going to cut it down and take it home."

"You mean we're going to kill it?" said Jack, pretending to be shocked.

"It's a tree," groaned Aster.

"I think Jack's teasing you, Aster," said Nick from the front seat, smirking. "Unless you really are anti hunting trees, Jack."

"I'm not anti hunting trees," said Jack. "But I didn't bring any tree hunting gear, like branches to blend in and make them comfortable so they'll never see me coming. I'm going to have to settle for telling all the other trees about the awesome tree in my backyard with the tree house. Then all the trees will want to come home with me. I'll be like the piper of trees! Then you would have a whole yard full of Christmas trees."

"That would be epic," said Nick as Sandy pulled into the gravel parking lot. "But we'd have to get more Christmas decorations. Not that I'm complaining. Christmas is by far the best holiday ever."

"No, Easter is way better than Christmas," countered Aster. "Easter is springtime and life and color. Christmas is red and green and commercialized."

"Whatever, Scrooge."

"What's a Scrooge?" asked Jack as they began walking into the barn that formed the office and housed the saws.

Both Aster and Nick froze and stared at Jack as if the boy had grown three heads and an toaster.

"You don't know who Scrooge is?" said Nick, his eye about to pop out of his head.

"No."

"What about the Grinch?"

"Nope."

"Jack Frost?"

"Yes?"

"Well at least you've seen that movie," said Nick, relieved that Jack wasn't totally at a loss when it came to the Christmas classics.

"Seen what movie?" asked Jack, his head tilting to the left if confusion.

"The movie Jack Frost."

"Oh, I thought you were saying my name," laughed Jack. "I didn't know that was a movie. No, I've never seen a movie about myself. Is it good? I always thought my life would make a terrible movie. I mean, I wouldn't even watch it and it's my life."

"Shut up, Jack," laughed Aster. "Come on, let's pick out a sharp saw."

Sandy shook his head as the three teenagers ran into the barn, grabbed a saw at random-like they did every year-and ran back out.

"Don't run with the saw, it's not like the trees are going to escape," called Sandy as his kids ran out into the field.

"No tree ever escapes the piper of trees!" yelled Jack, fist pumping the air.

Laughing, they spread out searching for the perfect tree for their new house. Since Sandy and Melody got married they had been going to the same tree farm. They used to drive hours to get there but now they lived only forty-five minutes away, which made the drive more convenient. It was one family tradition they were unwilling to part with after the move.

"What about this one?" asked Jack, walking around an eight foot tree, full, green, and larger then he could imagine a Christmas tree being.

"You really are the piper of trees," said Aster, poking his head out of a different row of trees just to the left. "That is the best tree I have ever seen. It's gianormous!"

"Jack? Is that you?" came a voice from twelve feet back.

"Please tell me this is not happening," muttered Jack under his breath before he turned to face the owner of the voice. "Hi Miss Jones. I haven't seen you in years. How are you doing?"

A large woman wearing glasses so think you were never sure if she was looking at you or somewhere else. She had on a dumpy brown dress and waddled when she walked, shifting her weight fully from one foot to the other before repeating the process.

"How are you doing, Jack?" asked Miss Jones, hugging the poor boy, suffocating him in her folds of fat, engulfing him completely.

"Mmmphmn," muttered Jack.

Miss Jones let go and Jack stumbled back until he was standing next to Nick and Aster, gasping for air.

"Miss Jones, this is Aster and Nick St. North and their father Sandy," said Jack. "Aster, Nick, Sandy, this is Miss Jones. She was my second grade teacher."

"It's nice to meet you," said Sandy politely.

"It's nice to meet you as well," gushed Miss Jones. "Jack was such a pleasure to have in class. Jack, how is your mother? And your father? What are they up to? They are both just such joys to talk to, I see where you get your charm. I always loved having conferences with them."

"Well assume my mother isn't terribly busy seeing as she's dead," said Jack bluntly. "And my father is currently in jail, so I suppose he isn't up to much either."

"Oh Jack, always the joker," trilled Miss Jones, patting Jack's head. "Still with the freaky hair and eyes I see. Well, it was good to see you. Give your parents my best."

And she waddled away.

"That was strange," said Aster.

"She never liked me," shrugged Jack. "She actually hated me. But my mom made cookies every time there was a conference to bribe her into keeping me in class. I sort of always caused trouble."

"Imagine that," teased Nick.

"She was ugly anyway," said Aster. "Come on, let's murder this tree."

"It's not murder, it's sacrifice in the name of holiday joy!" declared Nick, spreading the blanket on the ground and scooting under the branches to saw the tree down at the trunk.

It took almost an hour and several turns each before the tree finally separated completely from the ground. It was so think that it did not fall but they flagged down the truck and with the help of the buff lumberjack of a worker they managed to load the their kill onto the trailer and road back to the barn. They all went inside was the workers shook the tree free of dead needles and then put a net on it so they could load it on the top of the car and take it home. Inside the barn they helped themselves to hot chocolate.

"Hello Sandy!"said an older lady with a Santa hat, Christmas sweater, and jeans. "Oh my, you've been coming here for what, 22 years now?"

"Yup, we started the year after you guys opened, Mrs. Byrd," said Sandy, shaking her hand.

"Oh look at your boys, they've grown up so much! And where is your lovely wife? Is Melody home sick?"

"No, she's with her parents right now," said Sandy.

"And who is this handsome young man?" asked Mrs. Byrd, catching sight of Jack.

"This is Jack," said Sandy. "He's our son."

Jack looked at the ground to hide his shy smile, glowing at the fact that Sandy called him his son.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Jack," said Mrs. Byrd. "I hope you enjoyed your time here. Have you ever gotten a Christmas tree here before?"

"No, ma'am," said Jack softly. "You have a very nice farm."

"Why thank you. Aren't you just a sweetheart."

"You're all set, Sandy," said an older man sticking his head through the door.

"Thank you," said Sandy. "Why don't you boys head to the car and I'll pay for the tree and meet you there?"

"Alright," chorused the boys, leaving through the glass door.

"So did you just adopt Jack?" asked Mrs. Byrd as she totaled the cost of the tree.

"Yeah," said Sandy. "He's a bit shy but he really is a good kid."

"He must be. I haven't seen Aster smile that much in a few years. Well, you have a good Christmas."

"You too."

As Sandy left he couldn't keep a smile off of his face as he realized that the change in his son was apparent to more than just Melody and himself.

***Sorry I didn't update yesterday but it was Father's Day and I ended up staying up late at my twin brother's place and fell asleep on his couch and then had to go to work. But here is a fluffy chapter. I wasn't going to include the tree hunt at first but then I thought it would be fun to have it. Always-Ari**


	24. Coco and Movies

Christmas Eve Jack was shut in his room finishing wrapping presents to put them under the tree when a soft knock sounded at his door.

"Come in," called Jack, sticking the last bit of tape securely into place.

"Hey," said Nick with a smile. "You ready for present opening?"

"What?" asked Jack, leaning back against his bed. "It's only Christmas Eve."

"I know," said Nick, breathless with excitement. "What? Did no one tell you that we open family presents on Christmas Eve and Santa presents on Christmas morning?"

"You don't still believe in Santa, do you?"

"Come on, it's time to open presents! I'll help you bring them down."

Jack shrugged and helped him gather up the gifts and bring them downstairs to set under the enormous, fresh tree. The pile under the tree was already sizable and Jack felt his face flush at how very small and poorly wrapped his gifts seemed in comparison.

"You know some of those are for you, right?" whispered Aster in Jack's ear, causing him to jump.

Aster's signature cocky smile made an appearance at Jack's panicked expression, enjoying every second of his discomfort.

"Quit being mean," said Nick, shoving his brother lightly. "But he's right, some of those are for you, Jack. So, just smile and say thank you when the time comes."

"Okay kids, get by the tree for a picture!" said Melody, waving her camera. She had arrived back home the day before.

Nick and Aster dutifully went and sat in front of the tree while Jack hung back by a winged armchair, smiling at the family traditions he thought only existed in movies.

"Jack, dear, you too," said Melody.

"Don't you want one with just your sons?" asked Jack uncertainly.

"We want one with all the kids," said Melody, looking confused. "So get in there!"

"Come on, Jack," whined Nick. "Let's take the picture so we can open presents already."

Jack laughed but joined them, sitting in between the two boys to even out the colors. Nick had on a bright red sweater that glowed against his creamy skin while Aster wore a deep emerald green plaid shirt and black jeans and Jack had on a simple silvery blue button up he wore every Christmas, the difference in this one being there were people around to see it. They smiled for the camera before passing out presents.

"We normally open in age order," explained Melody once they were all settled. "So Sandy goes first."

They went around and around the room, each opening a single gift at a time. In the end, Jack sat with a brand new coffee maker (much to Aster's delight as well) from Sandy, a several new books from Melody spanning all different genres, several different albums of people he wanted Jack to listen to as well as charcoal and paper from Nick, and a new set of pens and a brand new hoodie from Aster.

"Okay, now I want you kids to bring up your presents," said Sandy. "Melody and I will bring you each a cup of hot coco, but no staying up to late."

"Coco!" cheered Nick.

They all quickly brought up their new belongings and changed into their pajamas. Jack was brushing his hair when Nick and Aster barged into his room, laughing and talking.

"Hey," they said together.

"Here's your coco," said Nick, handing him a steaming blue mug with a long silver spoon handle sticking out of it. The handle was topped with a ceramic snowman.

"Thanks," said Jack, taking a grateful sip. "What's up?"

"Well, growing up it was always tradition for us kids to have a sleepover together on Christmas Eve. We used to build a giant fort in Grace's or Aster's room and watch movies until we fell asleep. We were wondering if you would like to join us in my room for a traditional Christmas sleepover."

"Sure," said Jack, grinning like a snowman in a blizzard. "What movies will we watch?"

"Oh, the usual Christmas movies," said Aster. "The more important thing is making the fort. And this year, Nicky has the perfect room! It's huge and has his giant television. This is going to be epic!"

"That's my line!" spluttered Nick.

They created a masterpiece of a fort, balancing books on top of sheets, piling blankets and pillows on the ground in front of the television, making a mess and loving every second. At last, they all settled in, turned off the lights, and turned on the first movie. Nick was asleep before the end of the opening credits leaving Aster and Jack to watch the movie.

"Merry Christmas, Jack," whispered Aster. "It's after midnight."

"Merry Christmas, Aster," whispered Jack. "This is the best Christmas ever."

"It's only just started," chuckled Aster quietly.

"And it's already the best."

"I'm really happy we moved here," admitted Aster. "I'm really glad I met you."

"Oh, that reminds me," said Jack, reaching into his pillow case and pulling out a worn notebook.

The binding was held in place by layer upon layer of tape until it was more tape than binding. Jack handed it to Aster without a word. Aster lit up his phone and opened it, reading the first page by its glow. Then he closed the book and gave Jack a questioning look.

"It's for you," said Jack, twisting the sheets in his hands. "They day you moved in next door, I had started another notebook. You asked before about my journals. Well, I spent so much time on my own that I wrote to stay occupied often. The day you moved in I started another notebook. That is it. I couldn't think of what to get you for a present and I know how curious you are about my life and I am awful at explaining, so that's for you. Now you can see every encounter from the moment we met until yesterday afternoon from my point of view. Merry Christmas."

"You wrote me a book," said Aster.

"If you don't like it I can get you something else," said Jack in a rush.

"You wrote me a book," repeated Aster. "This is, hands down, the most amazing present anyone has ever given me."

Jack smiled a genuine smile, rare and showing off his white teeth, pleased that he had made Aster happy. Like a little kid making an older sibling smile, Jack couldn't help the growing warmth and glow that seemed to be radiating from his middle. They talked for a little bit longer and then Jack drifted off to sleep with the movie still rolling in the background. Aster placed a small plain box on Jack's pillow with a little note next to it before pulling Jack's blanket more securely around his shoulders and then settling in his own sleeping bag and falling asleep, grinning like a fool.

***I was going to post this yesterday...but then it turned into a monster and I had to try and find a place to cut it...mainly because I didn't like the middle part and wanted to transition. And guess what-next chapter the drama is present and ready to roll! It is the start of the moment this entire story was based on and leading up to, just the beginning! That also means this story is coming to a close in a few more chapters.**

**So, until the next time I post-probably tomorrow-I hope you enjoy this chapter, have a great day, mentally prepare yourself for what is to come, and all that jazz. Always-Ari**


	25. Merry Christmas Morning

His eyes snapped open. Soft, grey, predawn light filtered through the window to illuminate the room cluttered. For a moment he was confused as to why he was looking up at a royal blue sheet and why he was on a comfortable nest on the ground and not his bed or tree house. Then he remembered that it was Christmas morning and he was in Nick's bedroom in the blanket fort he had helped build the night before. Indeed, looking to one side Jack viewed Nick sprawled a few feet away, snoring at a moderate level, his festive holiday pajamas half covered and Santa hat askew. As he glanced the other way, his gaze fell on Aster, also still asleep. Next Jack's eyes met a box and note which had toppled off his frost blue pillow during the course of the night.

_Dear Jack,_ he read in Aster's ungainly scrawl, happy that the note was for him but also surprised. _Merry Christmas. Knowing you, this will be the first time in ages you have celebrated Christmas, so I hope you have a good one. Moving here was the best thing to ever happen to my family because we met you (cheesy, I know). You mean the world to all of us and I promise that I will always be here to help you and try to protect you. Always. Anyway, merry Christmas! Love Always- Aster_

Opening the box, he found a hand crafted bracelet made out of parachute cord of black and forest green. On the flip side of the note Aster had explained that he had made Jack a survival bracelet that, in the case of an emergency, could be undone and he would have not only a length of cord to use but also some matches, wire, fishing hook, and finger saw. Jack clipped the bracelet on his slim wrist and grinned at the practical gift.

"Oh good, you're awake," said Sandy, poking his head through the open door to his son's room. "Wow, what a fort. This is probably the best one they have ever built."

Jack nodded, cursing himself for being so on edge around Sandy still. It didn't matter that Jack was learning sign language just by being around this family that constantly signed, it didn't matter that Sandy had never given any indication of wanting to harm Jack no matter how quiet Jack was and no matter how many times Jack spoke to the ground when talking to Sandy so the older man could not read his lips. None of that mattered because try as he might Jack still had trouble being at ease around Sandy. As if by some alarm or sixth sense that alerted him to Jack's discomfort, Aster stretched, waking up.

"Merry Christmas, dad," yawned Aster, running a hand through his already dark messy hair.

"Merry Christmas," laughed Sandy loudly. "Your hair is a mess. If you wake up Nick you can have a cup of Christmas coffee."

Sandy left as Aster tossed a pillow into his brother's stomach.

"Oi! Wake up!" yelled Aster, aiming a kick at his brother when the boy didn't move. "Nick, wake up! It's Christmas!"

"Mmph," groaned Nick, never a morning person. "You just want coffee. Let me sleep."

"Santa visited," bribed Aster, playing at the Christmas loving but sleep deprived boy's weakness.

That caused Nick to get up, even if it was a sluggish movement. They all went to their own rooms to wash up and change. Then they met at the top of the stairs and sat there. Jack hummed absently, his long slim fingers drawing patterns on the ground.

"Mom! Dad!" yelled Aster impatiently. "Can we come downstairs yet? I want coffee!"

"Oh hush," said Jack, jumping slightly at the loud noise. "Be patient."

"Be patient," mimicked Aster, is a squeaky southern drawl.

"I don't talk like that," said Jack indignantly. "You've been spending way too much time with Cupcake."

"Okay kids," said Melody, appearing at the bottom of the stairs, holding a video camera. "What day is it?"

"Christmas!" they cheered.

"And what are your names and ages?"

"I'm Nickolas Dimitri St. North and I'm 17 years old," said Nick, sitting by the far wall, his Santa hat at a jaunty angle.

"I'm Eaman Aster Bunnymund St. North and I'm 17 years old too, but I'm still older than Nick," said Aster, never to be outdone.

"I'm Jackson Overland Frost," said Jack as they all stared at him expectantly. "And I am also 17 years old, but I'm the youngest."

"Okay," said Sandy with a wide grin that softened his hard face. "Darling let's stop teasing them. You kids can come downstairs and see what Santa brought you!"

The three teenagers paraded down like five year olds, laughing and sounding more like a herd of awkward llamas than three young adults. Around the living room sat five piles of presents, on top of each a stocking with the name of the owner embroidered down the front. Melody and Sandy had even made one for Jack, his name in baby blue.

Jack approached his pile of goodies with great care. Under his stocking, which was full of candy canes and lemon drops, sat a variety of different clothes in his favorite colors, purple, blue, brown, and black. He inspected each article as if he had never held something so wonderful, causing Melody and Sandy, who watched silently, to grin and hug each other, knowing they had done well and given the boy his first real Christmas.

After a while, they gathered around the piano while Nick expertly played Christmas tunes –having learned every Christmas song known to man by heart-and Melody, Aster, and Jack sang and Sandy watched. Eventually Melody and Aster would fall off and just listen to Jack sing. He really had a pleasant voice, soft, lilting, sounding like water and wind if either of those elements could sing. When they were finished with carols they had a small lunch and everyone settled in for a nice nap. Jack disappeared to his tree house but left the ladder down, knowing Aster would eventually follow him up.

Jack relaxed on his back, staring up at the tree branches, thinking about nothing in particular when he heard the ropes of the ladder creak. Rolling to his stomach he peeped over the edge to make a comment to Aster but was not greeted with his best friend's snarky grin but a much more menacing sneer.

_That's it!_ thought Jack, the comment he was going to make dying in his throat. _Fate is after me for surviving as long as I have. This is how it ends, in a tree house he wouldn't help me build, a place I never asked to move to, and completely alone._

Jack stared down death with a steady gaze, wanting the man climbing up to see the life wink out of his light eyes, hoping the image would stay burned in his memory past forever.

_I hope Melody can return the clothes,_ thought Jack with a sad smile as fate began to take over.

***Okay, this weekend I will not have internet. I may have time to update tomorrow before I head out but I may have to go right from work to my brother's and then off, so I just don't know. But we shall see! Anywho, thank you so much for your support and for reading this story. I really appreciate it. After all, you all are the only reason I continue to post-to make you happy. Always-Ari**


	26. Just Going to Stand There

Jack knew on some level what he had to do. Staring down at his father climb clumsily climbed the rope ladder, his mind went back into the primal place, the long forgotten world of instinct left behind in an attempt to become civil. He did not question how his father had escaped from jail although in a corner of his mind he found the idea of his father, normally so well dressed, crawling out of a dingy window in orange. In reality it made sense, one of his many friends and contacts probably posted bail and he, of course, had come to his home after promising to appear for trial like a good boy. An ex police officer would never lie, right, not even one accused of attacking a school with a loaded gun? No, Jack stopped his train of thought right there.

Without his permission Jack's body moved away from the edge of the platform, breaking contact with his father for the first time in what had seemed like years, and opened the waterproof safe box just inside the tree house walls. He tossed out his favorite novel-worn until the cover had fallen off, the first page taped and taped again until it was more tape than paper, all the other pages yellowed, stained, and floppy from numerous years of reading in all weathers, various sheets of paper, his walkie talkie, and matches until he found what he had been looking for shoved in the corner on the bottom of the box. It was a rough military blade Jack had picked up at a thrift shop shortly after moving after his mother's death, the serrated edge well kept but still old from the many times he had used it in quick repairs to his sanctuary in the sky. Breathing evenly he turned back to the edge of the platform where the straining ropes squeaked and began to saw.

His messy hair fell into his eyes, covering the blue with white before he swiped it away. With the sound of the blade, he began to think a new mantra in time with the cuts.

Back. _Sometimes we are holding on so hard to nothing that we never realize there is something out there._ Forth.

Back. _He is not my father anymore._ Forth.

Back._ He hasn't been for a long time._ Forth.

Back. _Family is not always blood._ Forth.

Back. _I can't do this anymore._ Forth.

Back. _We're never going to be a family again._ Forth.

Back. _I don't want to die anymore. _Forth.

Back. _But I don't want to kill him._ Forth.

Back.

With a creak and a snap, the ladder went tumbling down and with it his father went head over heels, heels over head, falling for longer than he should have been able, as if gravity was still trying to decide if it really wanted to pull that man down. He had almost reached the top, but almost never cuts it. For one long moment Jack's eyes locked with his father's, baby blue tied to golden eyes and something passed between them, a moment of understanding that they had been missing for years, because they both knew that things would never be the same.

His father smiled, showing all of his teeth in a way that made Jack question who had won.

Peeking over the edge timidly, Jack saw his father's broken body on the ground, blood staining the frozen ground. He did not move, his limbs at comical angles that would have made Jack laugh it had not been real. It was almost like a war movie, a fine grey mist moving in to obscure his body from view.

"That's smoke," said Jack quietly to himself, as if saying it out loud would make it disappear.

He saw then that his father had one more trick up his sleeve, something that explained the smile on his way to the ground. The lower limbs of the tree, dry from all of the winter air with dead leaves still clinging to their branches as if they were super glued on, were alight, fire licking them like his playful puppy, Luna.

"This can't be happening" he said.

Scrambling with the discarded walkie talkie, praying Aster hadn't forgotten and had his walkie talkie nearby.

"Aster?" said Jack, his voice shaking more than the slim finger that held down the button to talk. "Aster, I need you to answer me."

"Mmm?" said Aster, his voice breaking through the crackling from the other end, tone thick and bleary with sleep. "Jack, you have a cell phone now. Besides, aren't you just in your tree house? Or are you in your room now? Either way, you could just walk over to my room and knock."

"Aster, the tree is on fire, the one that holds the tree house," said Jack, wasting no time.

"What?" yelled Aster.

He could hear him running to the window of his room, the one that faced the backyard and had a view of the tree house.

"Please tell me you're not in the tree house right now," begged Aster as he tore open the curtains.

"I can't lie to you."

"How did this happen?"

Jack could tell Aster was yelling for his parents to call the fire department because he heard his voice from inside the house, so loud and desperate that his voice rang through the paint, dry wall, insulation, brick, outside, smoke, and then tree branches to reach Jack's ears.

"My dad," said Jack, still trembling as the smoke got thicker."He got out somehow, of jail I mean. He was climbing up the ladder and I thought it was you but then I looked and it wasn't so I cut it and I think, I think I killed him. Shit, I may have just killed my own father. I'm going to jail for sure. I don't want to go to jail, Aster! But he lit the tree on fire before he fell. He must have used lighter fluid or something because it's catching quickly and I can't get out. The ladder is on the ground."

Aster ran outside and saw the tree going up in flames, smoke obscuring the white mop of hair he knew was hidden in the upper branches but just out of reach. After all he had done, after promising to be there and to protect him, Jack sat just out of Aster's reach and all Aster could do was stand there and watch him burn.

***Okay, I'm sorry for first leaving you with a bit of a cliff and then not updating all weekend (which I did warn would happen but it was still mean) and then not updating yesterday when I updated the one-shot series I have going. My reasoning is simple-I was still rewriting this to try and make it better and then I kept adding and finding new things I wanted to say and then cutting things and so on until I finally decided to split the chapter and post this part first. So yeah.**

**Anywho, thanks for sticking with me over that wait. I hope I didn't disappoint you. Now, until next time. Always-Ari**


	27. Hope is a Funny Word

The flames climbed higher, clumsily, like Nick when he climbed the rope ladder, but still climbing and there was no way Aster could reach Jack without roasting first and that would do Jack no good. His green eyes scanned the entire area searching for something-anything-that would work for his purposes. In his hand still crackled the walkie talkie.

"Jack, it's going to be okay," said Aster, his voice cool and collected as his eyes finally found a way out. "I want you to climb out on the limb the goes near your bedroom window."

"Okay," said Jack. "But I'm going to have to leave the walkie talkie here, I can't climb that branch with one hand."

"That's alright, just climb out as far as you can on that branch."

Jack had spent hours upon hours in that tree and could climb like a monkey. He knew which branches would support his slight weight and which would not. Falling had never been a fear of his because most days it would have been just as bad as being with his father. The height never made his head spin like it seemed to do for Aster and Cupcake if either looked down and for a split second Jack was happy that neither of them were with him because if they were they would be cooked; those two would never follow him out on a limb.

On the ground, Aster searched the bushes next to Jack's back door and located the spare key he had told him about. Jack always used it to get into the house after school.

"We're not that far from the fire department," muttered Aster to himself as he tried to fit the correct key into the lock with trembling fingers. "They should be here by now."

His parents and Nick stood in the yard, staring up at the flame ridden tree, wondering what was taking the fire department so long to arrive. They had not even noticed Aster's absence or the broken man on the ground partially obscured by smoke. Aster unlocked the door and sprinted up the stairs to Jack's empty bedroom. He tried in vain to open the window but it was painted shut.

"Why would Jack have a window painted closed?" yelled Aster in frustration. "That's so damn stupid with his dad around. Always have an escape plan, Jack!"

Aster snatched Jack's desk chair and swung it through the glass, effectively removing the unwanted barrier with a crash. The glass and chair alike clattered to the ground below but the sound was muffled by the snap, crackle, and popping of the fire in the back yard.

"Okay Jack, jump!" called Aster, leaning out the window with his arms outstretched.

"It's too far!" screamed Jack, holding on to the branch for dear life as smoke surrounded him like a whimsical hug. "I won't make it!"

"I'll catch you," assured Aster, glancing at the fire that was much closer than he had thought. "Please, Jack, you have to jump."

"I can't," sobbed Jack, cheek against the rough bark. "I don't want to die, Aster."

"I don't mean to scare you, but that fire is eating that branch you are on," said Aster, his voice urgent as the limb gave a sickening crack. "I need you to jump now. I will catch you, I promise."

"I'm scared."

"I know, I know, but you have to believe in me. I will never let you fall. Now let me prove it to you. Jump, Jack."

With a scream Jack launched himself from the branch to Aster, the wind seeming to lift him. Jack's blue eyes were wide with panic, his hands stretching, reaching, trying to grab the callused tan hands that were his best hope of surviving.

_Hope, that's a funny word,_ thought Jack as his body appeared to hang in midair far longer than possible, like a basketball player jumping up to shoot and having to spin around an opponent before releasing the shot all on the same jump. _Hope, by definition, is to expect with confidence or to trust but what have I ever expected with confidence or trust? Come to think of it, what have I ever even expected at all? Nothing, I have expected nothing. I should have stayed in the tree, I shouldn't have called for help, I shouldn't have dragged Aster into my life because now if I don't make it he's going to blame himself. I hope he doesn't. There's that word again! Hope. But what do you hope for when you have nothing? I guess you hope for anything because anything is better than nothing….you hope for hope._

Aster managed to grab Jack's hands and Jack slammed into the side of his house, but better the side of his house than the ground quite a drop below. With a heave that should have taken more effort considering Aster was trying to drag a 17 year old boy up with only his arms, he pulled Jack into the bedroom where they fell in an undignified heap. Jack was coughing and bleeding from various scrapes, sobbing into Aster's shirt as the older boy just held him, happy to have him safe with him for the moment. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of Jack's head the way his mother would if she were in the room with them and not outside.

"I've got you," Aster whispered soothingly, rocking a bit to calm Jack. "You're safe, you're okay. I've got you."

"You caught me," Jack finally choked out, pulling away a fraction to look up at him in wonder.

"I promised I'd always be here for you," shrugged Aster as if he frequently caught people jumping out of burning trees.

"Can we go home now?" asked Jack, pitiful and shaking.

"Of course," said Aster, standing up and pulling a trembling Jack with him, one of his arms wrapped firmly around the smaller boy and taking most of his weight before heading out of the house and across the drive to their home.

***Look! No cliff here! And no, the story is not over yet. I mean, don't you want to find out what happened to Jack's dad? I sure do!**

**Thank you so much for all of your support, I really appreciate it.**

**Hope you liked this chapter! Always-Ari**


	28. Answering Questions

Soon enough, the police surrounded them. Jack sat in the St. North's yard, huddled next to Aster who had one over protective arm around the boy while he cuddled Luna. Melody and Sandy were speaking with the inspector out of earshot while Nick was on his phone talking and gesturing to Cupcake as the fire in the tree slowly surrendered to the massive amount of water snuffing out the oxygen around it.

"Am I going to get in trouble?" asked Jack, his scared voice barely more than a whisper.

"No," reassured Aster, pulling him closer. "You didn't set the tree on fire."

"But I…I…..I cut the ladder!" sobbed Jack, hugging his puppy closer. "And he fell. Oh my…..I killed my own father! First I killed my mom and now my dad!"

"Jack, why did you cut the ladder?"

"What?" said Jack, surprised enough to look up at Aster.

"Why did you cut the ladder, Jack?"

"Because I didn't want him to kill me."

"Then you acted out of self defense," said Aster reasonably even though he wasn't at all sure of what he was talking about. "You won't get in trouble. He already tried to kill you at school, there's no doubt in my mind that he would have killed you today if you had let him reach the top alive. And Jack, you didn't kill you mom, you know that. Besides, we don't even know if he died or not. But either way, you are not to blame."

His tone was so calm and sure that it soothed some of Jack's rattled nerves. Some, but not all, and those nerves flared again as the inspector, Melody, and Sandy walked over together, all three looking grim.

"How are you doing, sweetie?" asked Melody, kneeling down next to the two teenagers on the ground.

Jack shrugged. It was such a strange question to be asked and he did not know how to answer. He was grateful to be alive, scared that he would go to jail, worried that his father was dead, hoping he was just so he would leave him alone, and guilty for hoping that his father was dead in the first place. Somehow he did not feel like that was the answer Melody was looking for, so Jack had to settle for another shrug and leave it at that.

"Mr. Frost, I'm Mr. Sun," said the inspector, looking down at the disheveled Jack.

His strange name struck Jack as oddly funny, making him want to burst out in laughter.

_I'm in shock_, realized Jack before burying his head into Luna's fur.

"I want to ask you a few questions," continued Mr. Sun. "I need you to come down to the station and give an official statement."

"We'll come with you," said Melody. "You don't have to go alone."

"Okay," whispered Jack.

He looked at Aster as the slightly older boy stood, pulling him to his feet as he did. He kept his arm so firmly around Jack that his wobbling knees and jelly legs did not have the choice to give out. Together, with Nick leading the way, they walked to Aster's truck. Sandy drove, following the state vehicle to the station where they were showed into a room that made Jack think of a war council room minus the maps. He sat in between Aster and his mother with Sandy on Melody's other side and Nick on the other side of his brother. Mr. Sun sat opposite of them and tried to be friendly.

"Now Mr. Frost, if at any time you feel uncomfortable answering a question in front of any of these people you say so and we will ask them to leave for that question," said Mr. Sun. "I'm sure they will understand. It is very important that you answer all of these questions fully and honestly. I'm sure you want to get all of this done in one sitting so you won't have to come back in."

"I understand," said Jack.

"Now, as I'm sure you are already aware, a Mr. Pitch Black Frost was already scheduled to have a hearing involving his recent activity at your school. Do you have any idea why he would come to your house today?"

"Well, technically it's his house," said Jack, trying not to be snarky but wanting to have all of the facts correct. "I think he came to kill me."

"And what makes you think he was there to kill you?"

"The fact that he had a gun and had tried to kill me at school just a bit ago was what gave it away."

"And what exactly happened today?"

"Well, I celebrated Christmas with the St. North's because I am staying with them for the time being," said Jack, his voice going soft as he reflected over the events of the day. "It was a lazy day in general and I went out to my tree house to think. While I was up there, I heard the rope ladder creak and so I leaned over to ask Aster a question because I thought it was him coming up, but it wasn't Aster."

"And who is Aster?"

"This is Aster- E. Aster Bunnymund St. North," said Jack, nodding at the boy who drummed his fingers restlessly on the table. "He's my best friend and we frequently hang out in my tree house. But like I said, I looked down and it wasn't Aster, it was my dad. He had a gun in his hand and was trying to climb the ladder. My father was never a very good climber, so it took him a while. As he was climbing, I panicked. I knew that if I let him reach the top I would die because he obviously has a track record now. So, I cut the ropes with a knife I kept up there when I needed to fix bits of the tree house. He fell, but lit the tree on fire. I called Aster on my walkie talkie and he helped me climb out on a limb and caught me when I jumped. We went back to his yard and that's when you guys showed up, so you know the story from there."

"Why would your father try to kill you in the first place?"

"Because I'm alive? Because I remind him of his dead wife and daughter? Because he hates me? You can take your pick of reasons."

"Has he ever struck you or mistreated you before?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Almost every day for the past eight years, nine months, and two days. He was just emotionally abusive at first, then about a year into it he got physical."

"Okay."

"Anything else?"

As the hour wore on, Jack regretted asking that question. Mr. Sun wanted him to go into detail of his years of abuse and neglect and even his mother's death. Eventually, Jack had to ask Melody and Nick to leave because they were crying too much. It was emotionally draining. It was painful to talk about, but it was like the pain of sucking poison out of a wound, it hurt but it lessened the overall hurt. In the end, Mr. Sun sent them on their way, telling Sandy that he would be in contact with them.

"Wait," said Jack. "Does this mean my father is still alive?"

"Yes," said Mr. Sun. "But he has been arrested and in currently in a high security hospital in a coma. The doctors doubt he will wake up and if he does, he will be sent to jail. I'm sure I don't have to say this, but I don't think you should have any contact with him."

Jack nodded and followed Sandy and Aster out.

***Sorry, I lost internet and then thought I had posted this but I didn't, so I am now. We are almost done with this story :( but I hope you have enjoyed it so far!**

**The 190th reviewer gets to suggest a topic that my next chapter story will be about. Always-Ari**


	29. Work of Art

Jack found himself staring at the ceiling that night, afraid to close his eyes. Every time he tried images from the day would replay over and over again, all of the happy memories were blotted out by the bad ones until all that was left was the image of his father falling through smoke and then fire. He was relieved that he had not killed his father but still tortured by the knowledge that his father was senseless and broken beyond repair. In a small part of his mind, Jack remembered the days after his sister's death when he would be up crying and his father would hold him, rocking and singing until Jack fell asleep and the time before his mother killed herself when his father took him skiing and taught him how to take the jumps. In that part of Jack's mind lived the father he had held on to for years, the reason he had put up with abuse, because somewhere Jack held on to the vain desire of his father turning back and realizing who he had become.

His door creaked open a hair. He sat up and tried to make out the silhouette blocking the crack.

"I didn't mean to wake you," whispered Aster from the door. "I just wanted to check on you."

"I wasn't asleep," admitted Jack. "Do you want to sit and talk with me for a bit?"

"Sure," said Aster, leaving the door open and walking over and joining Jack on his bed. "Do you ever sleep under the blankets?"

The blanket had been exiled to the ground leaving just a sheet on the bed. The desk was lit up and covered with a large sheet of paper, charcoal discarded and laying haphazardly about.

"Sometimes," said Jack. "But I felt like I was suffocating, so I threw it on the ground."

"You're strange. So, some day, right?"

"Yeah, some day. I'm sorry I ruined Christmas. But can we please talk about something else for a bit?"

"Sure. How about we talk about that dog of yours?"

"Luna? What about her?"

"She chewed up one of my slippers."

"Oh, that," laughed Jack, leaning against the wall. "Right, I told her to do that."

"You did what?" said Aster, his face scrunching in frustration, nose wrinkling.

"You're 17 years old with bunny slippers, it had to be done," smirked Jack.

A good natured argument broke out at that, the type of back and forth that is light and joking, an exchange between best friends or siblings. Eventually Jack fell asleep, exhausted by the events of the day. Aster, who had been looking off into space, glanced to his side and spotted Jack leaning against the wall, asleep where he sat. With a small shake of his head, Aster got up, draped the light sheet over Jack's small form, and made his way towards the desk to turn off the light. He froze when he got there and stared at the drawing covering the sheet.

It was a landscape that spanned all of the seasons, each flowing flawlessly into the next until Aster couldn't even figure out where it all began. He could almost see the wind blowing the leaves in fall, snow in winter, fresh flowers in spring, and sunlight in fall. He was so taken in by the beauty that it took him several minutes before he noticed the words scrawled on it, woven into the scenes until it consumed the empty space and left Aster wondering how he hadn't noticed it right off.

"Love is such a fickle thing," read Aster, his head tilting to the side. "One moment, you are happily going about your life, walking along on a brisk spring morning, minding your own business, and the next you are flat on your face, tripped up by a gaping hole in the side walk that you did not see. And then a tall knight in shining armor helps you to your feet again. He is taller than you, which is a nice change because you are tall. He smiles that charming, dazzling white toothed smile at you and you are head over heels before you even know his name.

"He falls in step beside you as you continue on with your life. But all of a sudden you realize that it is not a brisk spring morning anymore, but a warm day in the summer, not hot but warm, when all of the colors are out but do not have that fresh, baby look to them anymore but a more faded look. It is not as if you were unhappy with your life before, because you were not and it is not as if you had never seen color before, because you had. It was just as if all of a sudden the world was no longer purely comfortable and fun but brilliant and exciting.

"The knight treats you like a lady, opening doors, showing you off as you stroll through life together. You in turn drag him in front of all of your friends, particularly the girls, to let them ooh and ah, dangling him as if this armor clad boy were a sparkling silver bracelet. Although you are not particularly romantic and are vainly independent it's a nice variation to have someone take care of you for a change. You feel like you are the center of the world when he is with you; all of the world is looking at you when you kiss him and hold his hand. Summer never felt so good and you are ready for a swim.

"Standing at the edge of the pool you look down and see your rippling, smiling, reflection and the radiant reflection of your handsome knight. You are ready to jump, about to take the plunge. You turn away from the water, look at your knight, and squint because the sun is reflecting off of his helmet. So you reach up and lift the visor so you can see his face properly and get one last kiss before you both jump. But he stops you and all of a sudden something happens. It all moves so quickly that you are not sure that you understand but you are falling, plunging into the water and just as you hit the bottom you remember that you do not know how to swim.

"You panic, thrashing around, trying to find your knight in the whirling mass of bubbles, but that's the funny thing.

"You see, armor sinks, so the knight never jumps in to save you.

"You can literally feel your heart breaking as you realize that you will never reach the air just mocking you out of sight. You hear the shattered pieces rattle around inside your chest, know there is no way you will ever be able to put them back together again. Your heart has been cracked before, small pieces have been torn out and you have glued them all back in, but this is different. This is worse.

"A heart can only break so many times.

"A steady hand pulls you out of the pool, rescuing you from the watery tomb and you realize that it was not the water that was drowning you after all but your emotions. Water and emotions are easily confused. And it is cold now, too cold for swimming; you were a fool to think that you could swim in such weather. And this new player, he is not your knight. He is just a boy, dripping wet from his dip in the water to save you. He looks at you as if you were crazy, which you probably are, and the world pays no attention because he is not a knight. The world has already moved on with your knight and you are forgotten.

"So you ring out your hair, change your clothes, and walk on to find a nice bench where you can be alone with your life. No more knights, no more attention, and even though you did nothing wrong, no more walking in the sunshine. With a sigh, you do the only thing you can think of, pull out your needle and thread and begin sewing your wounds shut just like you always do, one painful stitch at a time, not trusting anyone else to do it for you.

"Winter is not so bad you remind yourself and it is true. The snow is pretty and you can make angels in it. It is soft and fluffy, a place to land when you fall, which inevitably will happen. And that boy who saved you when you fell- or were you pushed- in the pool, well, he is not so bad for a boy. He throws snowballs at you when you start a snow fight knowing that they will not actually hurt you. He gives you his gloves when yours are all soaked from the snow even though his are just as cold, because just maybe it will help.

"But he is not a knight in shining armor with the world at his beck and call, he is a boy that remembered you when the world forgot.

"You start to think that maybe, just maybe, you could let this boy be a part of your world even though he frustrate you at times, even though the world does not fall over itself to see you with him, even though he is just a boy. But the closer you get to letting that boy become more than 'just a boy' to you the more you remember the knight and the more afraid you become because you remember exactly what drowning feels like.

"It all starts to spiral around in your head, a whirling tornado of emotions that you cannot comprehend and even see an end to so you shut your eyes to close it and life out, shaking your head against the internal noise until it all slams to a halt.

"Peeping open your eyes you find that winter has left all on its own and spring is back is a welcome surprise. It is not the spring you once knew because that is a spring you will never see again but neither is it the summer of the knight, which you realize now was a harsh Never Never Land masquerading as summer. The colors are all brighter than you have ever seen them, the air is fresher than you even dreamed it could ever be. You turn around in delight, taking in the splendor surrounding you, and you find yourself face to face with the boy from winter.

"It is in that moment that you realize that you never wanted a knight to begin with because when the knight held you all you felt from him was the cool metal casing around him. The sun always glared off of his armor and you never knew if he was looking at you behind that helmet of his or someone else. The boy standing in front of you wears no armor to hide his soul, his eyes are clearly trained on you face, and his heart in your hand.

"You look inside of you at that moment and find your heart, old faded scars and new pink scars criss-crossing and disfiguring, but somehow whole, and offer it to him with a look of shame, wishing you had something better to give him instead of an ugly heart.

"'This,' he says, as he takes your heart and places it where his used to be, 'Is the most beautiful heart I have ever seen.'

"Merry Christmas, Cupcake."

Aster read and reread it until it was engraved in his mind. It was addressed to Cupcake but it was clearly from Jack's heart and could be directed at Aster as well. It was a piece of art, a picture and story and was something Aster thought deserved to be in a museum, a place where the world could read it because there was a happy ending which rarely happened in life. Rarely.

***Guys, there is only one chapter left! One! Then this story is...over...finished...I'm sort of sad.**

**I worked really hard on this chapter, so I really super hope you enjoyed it. Seriously, I hope this made you happy because that is why I write so much, I like making people happy with my writing. Also, I think my writing has improved. Of course I still need to improve even more, but yeah.**

**Anywho, one chapter left. And the offer for the 190th review still stands-you get to suggest the next chapter fiction I write (however I do not write smut). Always-Ari**


	30. The Other Shoe

New Years Eve the St. North's held a party for their new friends and coworkers. Sandy and Melody had their coworkers, friends, acquaintances, everyone-Melody had even invited the bank teller and mailman- over and the adults held their party downstairs while Aster, Nick, Jack, Cupcake, Sophie, and Jamie held their party in the third floor with Luna prancing between them begging for attention. The third floor was more of a ballroom than an attic but they had comfortable couches, television, snacks, and their own bathroom. In a corner of the room was a pile of pillows, blankets, and overnight bags since Sandy and Melody had insisted that everyone spend the night rather than drive home and run the risk of the kids getting hit by one of the numerous drunk drivers bound to be on the streets.

"It's getting closer to midnight," stated Cupcake who was in her favorite pair of jet black pants, bright pink oversized shirt that draped like a dress, and charcoal boots.

All night, she had been watching how Aster interacted with Jack now that he was living with them for good. In a lot of ways, she had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, thinking some part of this handsome boy with his rugged good looks and gorgeous hair had to be flawed. He was smart, honest, attractive, kind, and protective. There had to be a fatal flaw hidden somewhere amongst those pillow soft locks. Then she saw it. Aster looked at Jack sitting next to him on the couch. The two were not even close enough to be touching, Cupcake knew Jack was uncomfortable with most physical contact having never experienced much other than abuse, and Jack was having a conversation with Nick who was sitting on an armchair diagonal from him. Jack was not even looking at Aster but Cupcake saw Aster look at Jack and found, at last, his fatal flaw.

Aster genuinely cared the world for Jack.

The look Aster gave Jack was one of simple adoration, protection, love, respect, caring, hope, tenderness, and restraint that clearly conveyed how he would fall to bits if Jack were not in his life, as if Jack. It was the look every person wanted to be given, a look that only came out when the other was not paying attention, and a look that was most often seen between siblings or family. Cupcake secretly wished someone would look at her like that someday. But Aster had the misfortune of deciding to adopt a surrogate younger brother who would always have a hard time caring for him back.

"Aster," said Cupcake softly. "Can I speak with you for a minute?"

"Sure," said Aster, tearing his gaze from his best friend and walking over to the more hostile force.

Cupcake wasn't sure who she was trying to help. She would tell herself later she was trying to help Jack because she didn't like Aster but in her heart she knew she was quite fond of Aster and didn't want either one to get hurt.

"What's up?" asked Aster, taking a seat across from Cupcake a bit away from the others.

"Look, about Jack," said Cupcake dropping her usual harsh tone and adopting the more supple tone she used only when dealing with Jack.

"If you're about to protest us making the adoption official-" began Aster defensively.

"No!" hurried Cupcake. "I think you are good for him and I know your entire family really care about her. I just wanted to remind you that you have to be patient with him and try not to get mad. He scares easily, for obvious reasons, even though most of the time he will hide it behind a smirk or joke. You have to make sure to always make him feel safe otherwise he will be impossible to talk with. And please, please, remember that he is not always the best at expressing himself but that doesn't mean he doesn't care."

"Cupcake," said Aster with his annoyingly cocky grin. "Are you going soft?"

"I could say the same about you. But I think we both just have the same weakness."

Aster nodded, casting a glance at Jack - still chatting with his brother- and conceding the point.

"You know I would never hurt him," said Aster.

"I know," sighed Cupcake. "It's just difficult for me to trust anyone with him after all I've watched him go through. And I blame myself for letting it get so bad."

"Don't," said Aster gruffly. "Don't play that game, it has no end. Every person in his life should have done something before but no one did. People can blame you and me, the two people he is closest to, for knowing and not doing anything but we are probably the most and least to blame. We are most at fault for letting it go but we are least at fault for not shutting our eyes and trying to help in the only ways we knew how. We both tried but it took his father snapping big time for anything to get done and we cannot be blamed for that."

"I guess."

"It's almost midnight!" cheered Sophie, bouncing and pointing at the big screen television that showed a scene from the city streets full of people.

"10!" yelled the entire house.

Cupcake and Aster moved to join their friends.

"9!"

Aster slipped into his spot next to Jack, placing the smaller boy between Nick and himself.

"8!"

Jack shot a glance at Aster standing next to him and smiled a real smile of happiness.

"7!"

As the old year ticked away and the new year chomped at the bit to get going, Jack realized it was the first time he would bring in the new year surrounded by people who cared for him.

"6!"

Jack inspected the group of people around him, some he had known for years but never let in, others he'd met just months before and had somehow grown to become the family he never had.

"5!"

Aster smiled down at his neighbor, friend, and brother and realized how thankful he was that his dad decided a move was for the best, how his mother chose that particular house, and how Jack had managed to hold on long enough for Aster to help.

"4!"

Aster turned his gaze back up and locked eyes with Cupcake.

"3!"

Aster felt a grin any fool would be proud of dance across his face and Cupcake seemed to understand.

"2!"

Jack began trembling with excitement, the trembling a habit he doubted he would ever shake from his old life.

"1!"

Aster and Nick simultaneously put their arms around Jack's shoulders.

"Happy New Year!"

Jack didn't pull away so they brothers gave him a quick hug. To their surprise, Jack threw his arms around them both and hugged them back. Everyone else was screaming and yelling, Sophie was banging pots and pans with wooden spoons, Jamie was throwing those ridiculous year glasses in the air, and even Cupcake was cheering. The three neighbors who were in the process of becoming a family stood together as the new year greeted the world and thought the same thing.

_This year is going to be the best year yet._

**Fin**

***Well, there you have it folks, the conclusion to this tale, the last chapter, the end. I must say, it has been an absolute joy writing for you all, I am so grateful for all of your comments because they help me improve as a writer. Thank you for the support throughout this entire thing. I really appreciate it. You all are the best and the reason I write and share.**

**The winner of the "suggest the next chapter fic" is...WULRUSvsUSA. So, if you so desire, you may either comment of pm me with your suggestion.**

**Everyone, if you have an idea for a oneshot, I do have a oneshot series so you can request for that as well as requesting chapter stories. **

**Thank you so much for sticking with this and reading it. Always-Ari**


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